THERE  WAS  A  COUGHING  ROAR  AND  A  LEOPARD,  TURNED  BY  THE  SHOT, 
BOUNDED  INTO  THE  JUNGLE. 

See  page  20% 


THE 

THREE  SAPPHIRES 


BY 

W.  A.  FRASER 

AUTHOR  OF   "FOOL'S   GOLD,"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

ARTHUR  HEMING 


NEW  XHr  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  George  H.  Dor  an  Company 


Copyright,  1918,  by  Street  6*  Smith  Corporation 
Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

THERE  WAS  A  COUGHING  ROAR  AND  A  LEOPARD, 
TURNED  BY  THE  SHOT,  BOUNDED  INTO  THE 

JUNGLE Frontispiece 

PAGE 

PUNDIT  BAGH  SHOT  INTO  THE  AIR  A  QUIVERING  MASS 

OF  GOLD  AND  BRONZE  IN  THE  SUNLIGHT    .          .  72 

GREAT    AS    WAS    THE    ELEPHANT'S    STRENGTH,    SHE 

COULD  NOT  BREAK  THE  PYTHON*S  DEADLY  CLASP         140 

THE  GRAY  STALLION*S  THUNDERING  GALLOP  ALL  BUT 

DROWNING  THE  BLASPHEMOUS  REPROACH  .         248 


2129788 


PART  ONE 


THE 

THREE  SAPPHIRES 


PART  ONE 

Chapter  I 

FROM  where  they  were  on  the  marble  terrace 
that  reached  from  the  palace  to  a  little  lake 
— the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin — Lord  Vic- 
tor Gilfain  and  Captain  Swinton  could  see  the  intri- 
cate maze  of  Darpore  City's  lights  down  on  the 
plain,  six  miles  away. 

Over  the  feather-topped  sal  forest  behind  the 
palace  a  gorgeous  moon  was  flooding  the  earth  with 
light,  turning  to  ribbons  of  gold  the  circling  ripples 
on  the  jade  lake,  where  mahseer  and  burbel  splashed 
in  play. 

Rajah  Darpore  was  leaning  lazily  against  the  fret- 
work marble  balustrade  just  where  the  ghat  steps 
dipped'down  under  the  water.  He  was  really  Prince 
Ananda,  the  shazada,  for  down  in  the  city  of  glitter- 
ing lights  still  lived  his  father,  the  maharajah;  but  it 
had  become  customary  to  address  the  prince  as  rajah. 

A  servant  came  and  took  their  empty  sherry 
glasses. 

Prince  Ananda  was  saying  in  his  soft  Oriental 


10  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

voice  that  the  Oxford  training  had  set  to  truer 
rhythm:  "After  that  gallop  up  in  the  tonga  I  always 
iind  it  restful  to  come  out  here  and  have  my  sherry 
and  bitters  before  dinner." 

"It's  ripping;  I  mean  that."  And  Lord  Victor 
Gilfain  stretched  his  slim  arm  toward  the  blinking 
lights  of  Darpore. 

"I  hope  you're  comfortable  in  the  bungalow,"  the 
prince  said  solicitously.  "I  hadn't  time  when  you  ar- 
rived this  morning  to  see  just  how  you  were  placed. 
I  haven't  any  bungalows  up  here,  either;  they're  all 
in  the  cantonments." 

"We're  fitted  up  regal,"  Lord  Victor  answered; 
"horses,  servants— everything." 

"Well,  I'm  very  glad  you  came,"  Ananda  said, 
"At  Oxford  we  often  talked  about  the  shooting  you 
were  to  have  here,  didn't  we?" 

"Rather." 

"But  I  never  thought  Earl  Craig  would  let  you 
come.  Having  lived  in  India  in  his  younger  days,  I 
fancied  he'd  be  gun-shy  of  the  country." 

Lord  Victor  laughed.  "I  got  marching  orders 
from  the  gov'nor." 

The  prince  tapped  a  cigarette  on  the  marble  rail, 
lighted  it  from  the  fireball  a  watchful  servant  glided 
into  range  with,  blew  a  puff  of  smoke  out  toward  the 
little  lake,  and,  with  a  smile,  murmured  dreamily: 
"I  wonder  if  I  knew  the  girl?" 

"You  didn't,  old  chap;  though  you've  pipped  the 
gov'nor's  idea  all  right.  Swinton  here  is  my  keeper; 
he's  supposed  to  be  immune." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  11 

"Well,  you're  safe  at  Darpore.  There's  abso- 
lutely nobody  here  just  now.  Everybody's  In  Cal- 
cutta." 

"I  fancy  the  gov'nor  cabled  out  to  ask  about  that 
before  he  packed  me  off."  And  Gilfain  chuckled,  a 
tribute  to  his  reputation  for  gallantry. 

"I  should  say  you're  in  good  hands,  too."  Anan- 
da's  white  teeth  showed  in  a  smile  that  irritated  Swin- 
ton.  When  Prince  Ananda  had  met  them  at  the  train 
Swinton  had  seen  his  black  eyes  narrow  in  a  hard 
look.  He  had  been  wondering  if  the  prince  knew 
"his  real  position — that  he  was  Captain  Herbert,  of 
the  secret  service.  But  that  was  impossible.  Prob- 
ably the  prince  was  mistrustful  of  all  Europeans. 

Then  Ananda  resumed,  in  an  introspective  way: 
"That's  England  all  over ;  they're  as  much  afraid  of 
breaking  caste  by  marrying  lower  down  as  we  are 
here.  In  fact" — Darpore  raised  his  hand  and 
pointed  to  the  distant  city — "the  maharajah  is  sit- 
ting yonder,  probably  in  his  glass  prayer  room,  lis- 
tening to  some  wandering  troubadour  singing  the 
amorous  love  songs  of  'Krishna  and  the  Milkmaids,' 
and  his  mind  is  quite  at  rest,  knowing  that  the  Brah- 
man caste  is  so  strong  that  it  protects  itself  in  the 
way  of  misalliance." 

"But  you?"  Lord  Victor  blurted  out  boyishly. 
"Damn  it,  prince,  you  put  your  caste  under  the  pil- 
low at  Oxford!" 

Ananda  laughed.  "Personally  it  is  still  under  the 
pillow.  You  see,  when  I  crossed  the  'black  water' 
I  broke  my  caste.  When  the  time  comes  that  it  is 


12  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

necessary  for  the  welfare  of  Darpore  state  that  I 
take  it  on  again — well,  I  may.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
the  maharajah  is  not  a  Brahman  at  all;  he's  some- 
thing very  much  greater,  if  he'd  only  think  so;  he's 
a  rajput  of  the  Kshatri  caste,  the  warrior  caste." 

Swinton,  sitting  back  in  his  chair,  had  closed  his 
eyes,  experiencing  a  curious  pantomimic  effect  in  lis- 
tening to  the  English  voice  leisurely  drawling  these 
curiously  startling  sentiments;  then  when  he  opened 
them  suddenly  there  was  the  lithe  figure  of  the  Ori- 
ental, the  Indian  prince.  It  didn't  ring  true;  there 
was  a  disturbing  something  about  it  that  kept  his 
nerves  tingling.  Perhaps  it  was  that  he  had  come 
to  delicately  investigate. 

"And  this,"  Ananda  continued,  indicating  the  pal 
ace  and  the  sal  forest  beyond.  "I  mean  my  desire 
for  this  and  not  that" — and  the  ruby  point  of  hi» 
cigarette  enveloped  with  a  sweeping  gesture  the  city 
in  the  plain — "is  because  of  a  Raj  Gond  cross  away 
back.  They  were  primitive  nature  worshippers — 
tiger  gods  and  all  that.  Listen!"  He  held  up  a 
finger,  his  eyes  tense,  as  from  high  up  on  the  hills, 
deep  in  the  forest,  came  the  hoarse,  grating  call  of 
a  leopard.  Immediately  from  just  behind  the  palace 
the  call  was  taken  up  and  answered  by  another 
leopard. 

"By  Jove !"     Gilfain  sprang  to  his  feet. 

The  prince  laughed.  "That's  one  of  my  captives; 
I've  got  quite  a  menagerie.  We'll  see  them  in  the 
day,  first  time  you're  out.  That's  the  Raj  Gond 
taint.  I  couldn't  stand  it  down  there,  so  the  maha- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  13 

rajah  let  me  build  this  bungalow  up  here.  This 
whole  plateau  we're  on  contains  a  buried  city.  Who 
built  it  or  who  lived  in  it  nobody  knows.  The  mar- 
ble you  see  in  the  palace  was  all  taken  from  the 
buildings  beneath  the  roots  of  these  sal  trees.  I'll 
show  you  something;  we've  got  time  before  the  others 
arrive  for  dinner." 

He  led  the  two  men  down  wide,  marble  steps  to 
the  water's  edge,  and  indicated  a  cable,  the  end  of 
which,  coming  up  out  of  the  lake,  crept  into  the  bank 
beneath  a  large  marble  slab. 

"What's  it  attached  to?"  Lord  Victor  asked. 

"This  lake  is  artificial.  If  it  were  daylight,  and 
we  were  up  on  the  bank,  we  could  see  seven  of  them. 
The  story  of  this  cable  runs  that  when  the  king  of  this 
city  that  is  buried  was  dying  he  commanded  that  all 
his  jewels  and  weapons  and  his  body  be  placed  in  a 
golden  boat  and  sunk  in  the  centre  of  this  lake.  They 
say  the  boat  is  attached  to  the  other  end  of  this  cable  j 
I  don't  know." 

"Has  anybody  ever  tried  to  pull  it  up?"  Swinton 
asked,  still  feeling  that  he  was  helping  on  the  panto- 
mime. 

"Yes ;  once  an  avaricious  nawab  got  together  sev- 
eral elephants  and  many  men,  and,  fastening  to  the 
cable,  started  to  pull  the  boat  up.  It  came  easily  at 
first,  but  just  when  they  all  got  very  careless  and  were 
starting  to  rush  it  the  magic  thing  slipped  back,  pull- 
ing them  in,  and  they  were  all  drowned.  There's  a 
legend  that  if  a  holy  man  stands  here  at  midnight  of 
a  full  moon  when  the  mhowa  tree  is  in  bloom,  with 


14  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

the  three  sacred  sapphires  of  our  mythology  in  his 
hand,  the  king  will  rise  in  his  golden  boat  if  the  holy 
man  has  been  ordained  of  the  gods  to  be  a  leader  of 
his  people." 

Back  on  the  terrace,  Prince  Ananda  asked:  "Were 
you  in  the  service  out  here,  captain?"  Very  inconse- 
quential was  the  tone  of  this  query  that  was  so 
pointed  in  reality. 

"I  was  on  the  Bombay  side  for  a  time;  my  health 
petered  out,  and  I  had  to  go  back  to  Belati." 

"I  see  the  lights  of  Major  Finnerty's  dogcart  com- 
ing up  the  hill,"  Ananda  announced. 

"Coming  to  dinner  with  us — any  ladies,  prince?" 
Lord  Victor  queried. 

"No;  this  is  what  I  call  a  pilkana  or  play  dinner. 
After  we've  dined  I'm  going  to  show  you  some  In- 
dian tamasha.  I  asked  Finnerty  because  he's  great 
on  these  jungle  friends  of  mine — should  be  able  to 
find  you  some  tiger;  I  don't  shoot." 

The  moon  showed  an  apologetic  smile  curving  the 
lips  clear  of  his  brilliant  white  teeth  as  Ananda,  turn- 
ing to  Swinton,  added:  "I  never  kill  any  of  them 
myself;  I'm  a  Buddhist  in  that  way." 

"Do  you  believe  in  reincarnation,  prince?"  Gilfain 
questioned. 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  believe  in  anything  that's  not 
demonstrable;  but  I  do  know  that  it  is  a  good  thing 
to  not  take  life.  Finnerty  is  the  government  keddah 
sahib  here,  and  I'm  going  to  ask  his  help  in  giving 
you  some  sport,  Gilfain.  My  private  archaeologist, 
Doctor  Boelke,  is  coming  for  dinner  also.  The 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  16 

trouble  about  him  is  the  more  he  drinks  the  more 
Teutonically  sombre  he  becomes." 

The  prince  excused  himself,  saying:  "I  think 
they're  pretty  well  coming  together." 

The  two  men  could  hear  a  heavy  tonga  clatter  up, 
followed  by  the  light,  whirring  grind  of  dogcart 
wheels  and  a  medley  of  voices.  As  a  group  came 
through  the  palace,  Swinton  could  hear  the  heavy 
guttural  of  a  German's  "Ach,  Gott!"  about  some- 
thing unpleasing. 

There  was  a  brief  introduction  and  an  immediate 
departure  to  the  dining  room. 

After  dinner,  as  they  sat  at  little  tables  on  the 
moonlit  terrace  over  their  coffee  and  cheroots,  Major 
Finnerty,  taking  from  his  pocket  an  oval  stone  the 
size  of  a  hen's  egg,  said:  "I've  got  a  curiosity,  prince; 
I  wonder  if  you  can  read  the  inscription  on  it." 

"What  is  it,  major?"  Darpore  asked  as  he  held  it 
toward  an  electric  lamp  on  the  table. 

"It's  a  very  fine  sapphire  in  the  rough.  Where 
the  end  has  been  cut  it  is  of  the  deepest  pigeon  blue." 

"I  can't  read  the  characters  because  they  are  Per- 
sian, and  I  only  know  the  Devanagari,  but  Professor 
Boelke  can,"  and  Ananda  passed  it  to  the  German. 

"Yes,  it  is  Persian,"  Doctor  Boelke  said.  With 
a  pencil  he  wrote  on  a  piece  of  paper  some  strange- 
looking  characters.  "It  means  Rikaz,  and  is  noth- 
ing of  mystery." 

Swinton,  who  was  watching  the  German's  eyes, 
felt  that  they  were  passing  some  hidden  meaning  to 
the  prince. 


16  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"Rikaz  means  a  mine,"  Doctor  Boelke  continued; 
*'a  place  vhere  stones  or  metal  are  found;  dot's  all." 

Swinton  intercepted  the  stone  on  its  way  back,  and 
after  examining  it  passed  it  on. 

"Dot  is  a  big  sapphire,  major,"  Boelke  said; 
"vhere  did  you  get  it  ?  And  for  vat  is  der  hole  on  der 
other  end  from  der  inscription?" 

"It's  a  curious  story,"  Finnerty  answered.  "A 
jungle  hethni — female  elephant — came  down  out  of 
the  forest  and  walked  right  in  on  us,  by  Jove !  I'll 
describe  Burra  Moti ;  that's  what  we  call  her,  the  Big 
Pearl.  She's  a  female  with  large  tusks ;  she  has  four 
toes  on  each  hind  foot,  and  I  haven't  another  elephant 
that  has  more  than  three.  She's  different  in  other 
ways ;  has  two  fingers  on  the  end  of  her  trunk  instead 
of  one;  she  has  immense  ears  and  a  hollow  back;  she 
never  lies  down." 

Doctor  Boelke  leaned  forward,  adjusted  his  big 
glasses,  and  said:  "My  friend,  you  haf  described  an 
African  elephant." 

"Yes,"  the  major  answered;  "that's  what  Burra 
Moti  is." 

"I  admit  it's  some  mystery,"  Finnerty  said  slowly; 
"it  has  bothered  me.  All  I  know  is  that  Burra  Moti, 
who  is  undoubtedly  an  African,  came  down  out  of 
the  jungle  to  the  keddah  because  she  was  going  to 
calve.  What  taught  her  that  she'd  be  safe  with  her 
calf  in  the  keddah  I  don't  know;  where  she  came 
from  I  don't  know.  Around  her  neck  was  a  strap  of 
sambur  skin  to  which  was  attached  a  bell,  and  morn- 
ing and  evening,  at  a  certain  hour,  Burra  Moti  would 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  17 

reach  up  with  her  trunk  and  ring  the  bell.  Last 
evening  the  mahout  didn't  hear  it  at  the  usual  hour 
— eight  o'clock — so  he  went  down  to  where  Burra 
Moti  stood  under  a  big  tamarind  tree  and  found  a 
native — looked  to  be  a  hillman — crushed  flat  where 
she  had  put  her  big  foot  on  him.  Beside  him  lay  the 
bell,  and  the  strap  had  been  cut  with  a  sharp  knife. 
The  bell  was  flattened  out  of  shape,  Moti  in  her  rage 
evidently  having  stepped  on  it.  The  clapper  of  that 
bell  was  this  sapphire,  hung  by  the  little  hole  in  the 
end." 

"By  Jove !"  Lord  Victor  ejaculated.  "My  gov'nor 
would  give  a  few  sovs  for  that  sapphire;  he's  en- 
tirely daffy  on  the  subject  of  Indian  curios." 

"If  it's  for  sale  I'll  give  a  thousand  rupees  for  it, 
major,"  the  prince  added. 

"I've  got  to  fix  that  bell  up  again  for  Burra  Moti," 
Finnerty  answered;  "she's  been  in  a  towering  rage 
all  day — keeps  slipping  her  trunk  up  to  her  neck  like 
a  woman  looking  for  a  necklace  she  has  lost." 

"Oh,  I  say!"  Gilfain  expostulated.  "Rather  tall- 
ish  order,  old  chap,  don't  you  think?  Almost  too 
deuced  human,  what?" 

Major  Finnerty  turned  in  his  leisurely  way  to  Gil- 
fain:  "If  a  chap  spends  several  years  with  elephants 
he'll  come  devilish  near  believing  in  reincarnation, 
my  young  friend."  Then,  addressing  Darpore  more 
particularly,  he  added:  "I  want  to  tell  you  one  ex- 
traordinary thing  Burra  Moti  did  when  her  calf  was 
born.  The  little  one  was  as  though  it  were  dead,  not 


18  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

breathing.  With  her  front  foot  the  mother  pressed 
the  calf  s  chest  in  and  out  gently — artificial  respira- 
tion if  you  like,  gentlemen — and  kept  it  up  until  the 
calf  breathed  naturally.  But  I'm  sorry  to  say  the 
little  one  died  next  day." 

Swinton  waited  for  some  comment  on  the  sapphire- 
clappered  bell.  He  now  asked:  "Do  you  suppose, 
major,  it  was  just  a  bell  that  the  thief  wanted?" 

"No;  that  native  had  never  been  seen  around  the 
lines  before.  It's  not  likely  he  would  slip  into  a 
strange  place  and  take  chances  of  being  killed  for  a 
thing  of  not  much  value — a  bell." 

"Perhaps  it's  one  of  those  bally  sacred  things," 
Lord  Victor  interjected. 

Swinton  saw  Ananda's  eyes  send  a  swift  glance  to 
the  German's  face. 

"Well,"  Finnerty  said  meditatively,  "I  think  the 
thief  knew  of  the  sapphire  stone  in  that  bell,  and 
it  may  have  belonged  to  some  temple;  I  mean  Burra 
Moti  may  have  been  a  sacred  elephant." 

"If  that  were  the  case,"  Darpore  objected,  "they'd 
come  and  claim  the  elephant." 

"The  stone  being  in  the  rough,  there  must  be  a 
mine  near  where  the  elephant  was  equipped  with  the 
bell,"  Swinton  suggested. 

"I  had  an  idea,"  Finnerty  said,  "that  if  I  rode 
Burra  Moti  off  into  the  jungle  and  let  her  drift  she 
might  go  back  to  where  she  came  from;  I  might 
find  the  mine  that  way." 

As  Finnerty  ceased  speaking  the  high-pitched 
roicc  of  a  woman  singing  floated  down  to  them  from 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  19 

higher  up  on  the  hill.  Ananda  clapped  his  hands; 
a  servant  slipped  from  a  door  in  the  palace,  and, 
salaaming  deeply,  listened  to  an  order  from  the 
prince.  When  he  re-entered  the  palace  the  row  of 
lights  that  had  illumined  the  terrace  went  out,  leav- 
ing the  sitters  in  the  full  glamour  of  a  glorious  moon. 

Ananda  made  a  gesture  toward  the  hill  from  which 
the  weird  chant  came.  "That  is  the  Afghan  love 
song,"  he  explained.  "The  girl  represents  a  princess 
who  was  in  love  with  a  common  soldier.  After  a 
great  battle  she  went  out  on  the  plain,  searching  for 
him  among  the  wounded  and  slain ;  so  now  this  girl 
will  come  down  in  her  singing  search." 

The  listeners  could  now  make  out  the  weird  music 
of  the  many-stringed  fiddle  that  a  companion  played 
as  accompaniment  to  the  girl's  voice.  The  prince 
swept  his  hand  toward  the  great  disk  of  silver  that 
had  lifted  above  the  sal  trees,  saying:  "My  people 
believe  that  luminous,  dead  planet  up  there  is  the 
soul,  purusha,  of  Brahm  the  Creator;  fitting  light 
for  the  path  of  a  princess  who  is  singing  out  of  the 
desolation  of  her  soul." 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  wailing  plaint  of  the 
girl  looking  for  her  dead  soldier.  Once  its  vibrant 
tone  stirred  the  leopard  in  his  cage,  and  he  called: 
"Wough-wa,  wough-wa,  wah!" 

"That's  'PardY  mating  call,"  the  prince  explained. 
"Even  he,  jungle  devil,  feels  something  in  that  love 
song — in  the  sorrowing  voice  that  does  not  anger 
him." 

A  peacock,  wakened  from  his  sleep  by  the  leopard, 


20  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

sent  out  a  warning  call  to  jungle  dwellers  that  a  killer 
was  afoot.  "Meough,  meough,  meough!"  he  cried 
in  shrill  discordancy. 

The  song  of  love-search  drifted  in  from  the  sal 
trees,  through  the  mango  tope  beyond  the  palace, 
along  the  banks  of  the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin,  and 
up  the  ghat  steps  to  the  terrace. 

In  the  moonlight  the  girl's  face,  as  she  came  slow- 
ly up  the  steps,  was  beautiful ;  her  grace  of  movement 
was  exquisite.  Followed  by  the  musician,  she  passed 
along  the  terrace  with  no  notice  of  the  prince  or  his 
guests.  At  the  far  end,  she  dropped  to  her  knees  be- 
side a  figure  that  had  lain  there — her  slain  soldier 
lover.  She  lifted  his  head  into  her  lap,  and  the  song 
rose  in  an  intensity  of  lament;  then  it  died  down  to  a 
croon ;  the  desolate  woman's  head  drooped  until  her 
luxuriant  hair  shrouded  the  soldier's  face.  Suddenly 
the  crooning  chant  was  stilled ;  the  girl's  face  thrust 
up  through  its  veil  of  hair,  and  the  eyes,  showing  a 
gleam  of  madness  in  the  moonlight,  swept  the  vault 
above. 

"She  has  become  crazed  by  the  death  of  her  lover," 
the  prince  explained  softly.  As  the  girl  commenced 
a  low  chant  he  added:  "She  now  asks  of  the  gods 
what  she  must  do  to  receive  back  his  life.  She  thinks, 
in  her  madness,  they  answer  that  if  she  dances  so  that 
it  pleases  Krishna  the  soldier  will  be  restored  to  life." 

Tenderly  the  girl  laid  the  head  of  her  lover  down, 
kissing  him  on  the  staring  eyes,  and  then  commenced 
a  slow,  sinuous  dance,  the  violin,  with  its  myriad  wire 
etrings,  pulsating  with  sobs.  The  soft,  enveloping 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  21 

moon  shimmer  lent  a  mystic  touch  of  unreality  to 
the  elfin  form  that  seemed  to  float  in  rhythmic  waves 
against  the  dark  background  of  the  sal  forest.  Faster 
and  faster  grew  the  dance,  more  and  more  weird 
the  wail  of  the  violin,  and  the  plaint  from  the  girl 
for  her  lover's  life  became  a  frenzied  cry.  Now  she 
had  failed;  her  strength  was  gone;  death  still  held 
in  its  cold  fingers  the  heart  of  her  lover;  she  reeled 
in  exhausted  delirium,  but,  as  she  would  have  fallen, 
the  lover  rose  from  death  and  caught  her  to  his 
breast. 

But  the  gift  of  the  gods — his  life — had  been  but 
transitional — a  bitter  mockery — for  the  princess  lay 
dead  against  his  pulsing  heart.  Smothering  the  un- 
responsive eyes  and  lips  with  kisses,  he  gently  placed 
the  girl  upon  the  ground,  and,  standing  erect,  defied 
the  gods — called  them  to  combat. 

Prince  Ananda  interpreted  the  words  and  gestures 
of  the  gladiator  as  the  moonlight  painted  in  gold  and 
copper  his  bronze  form. 

In  answer  to  his  challenge  a  sinister  form  glided 
from  the  shadow  of  the  wall. 

"Bhairava,  -the  evil  black  god,  who  rides  abroad 
at  night,"  Ananda  explained,  adding,  as  the  combat 
began:  "They  are  two  Punjabi  wrestlers.  The  lover 
is  Balwant  Singh,  which  means  'Strong  Lion;'  Bhai- 
rava, whom  you  see  is  so  grotesquely  painted  black, 
is  Jai  Singh,  'Lion  of  Victory.' ' 

The  struggle  was  Homeric,  as  Balwant  Singh,  the 
muscles  on  his  back  rising  in  ridges,  strove  to  conquer 
the  black  god.  In  vain  his  strength,  for  the  god, 


22  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

sinuous  as  a  serpent,  slipped  from  the  lover's  grasp 
with  ease.  At  last  Jai  Singh's  black  arm  lay  across 
the  lover's  throat,  anchored  to  the  shoulder  by  a 
hand  grip ;  there  was  a  quick  twist  to  the  arm,  a  chok- 
ing gasp  from  Balwant  Singh,  and,  with  startling 
suddenness,  he  was  on  his  back,  both  shoulders 
pinned  to  the  mat. 

The  tragic  drama  was  at  an  end.  The  lover,  slain 
by  the  gods  he  had  defied,  lay  beside  his  dead  prin- 
cess. 

"Ripping!"  Lord  Victor  cried.  "In  Drury  Lane 
that  would  cause  no  end  of  a  sensation  as  a  panto- 
mime. Hello !  By  Jove !  I  say !" 

For  even  as  the  young  man  cackled,  some  heavy 
shadow,  some  mystic  trick  of  the  Orient,  had  faded 
from  their  eyes  the  three  figures  of  the  drama. 

Prince  Ananda,  with  a  soft  laugh  at  Gilfain's  as- 
tonishment, said:  "Bharitava,  the  evil  god,  has 
spirited  the  lover  and  the  princess  away." 

"My  friends,  dot  to  me  brings  of  importance  a 
question,"  Doctor  Boelke  commented.  "How  is  it 
dot  a  few  Englishmen  rule  hundreds  of  millions,  and 
we  see  dot  der  Hindus  are  stronger  as  der  white 
man;  no  Englishman  could  wrestle  those  men." 

"I  fancy  it's  hardly  a  question  of  what  we  call 
brute  force  where  England  governs,"  Swinton 
claimed. 

"Oh,  of  course!"  And  Doctor  Boelke  laughed. 
"England  alvays  ruling  people  because  of  philan- 
thropy. Ah,  yes,  I  hear  dot!" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  sir" — and  Lord  Victor's 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  22 

voice  was  pitched  to  a  high  treble  of  indignation — 
"that  we  have  no  wrestlers  at  home  as  good  as  these 
Hindu  chaps?  Damn  it,  sir,  it's  rot!  A  man  like 
Fitzalban,  who  was  at  Oxford  in  my  last  yeao-, 
would  simply  disjoint  these  chaps  like  wooden  dolls." 

The  doctor  puffed  his  billowy  cheeks  in  disdain, 
and  Finnerty  contributed:  "Don't  underrate  these 
Punjabi  wrestlers,  my  young  friend;  there  are  dev- 
ilish few  professionals  even  who  can  take  a  fall  out 
of  them." 

"The  major  should  know,"  and  Darpore  nodded 
pleasantly;  "he  has  grappled  with  the  best  that  come 
out  of  the  Punjab." 

Gilfain,  his  spirit  still  ruffled  by  the  Prussian's 
sneer  at  England,  declared  peevishly:  "I  wish  there 
was  a  chance  to  test  the  bally  thing;  I'd  bet  a  hun- 
dred pounds  on  the  Englishman,  even  if  I'd  never 
seen  him  wrestle." 

Boelke,  with  a  sibilant  smack  of  his  lips,  retorted: 
"You  are  quite  safe,  my  young  frient,  with  your  hun- 
dred pounds,  because,  you  see,  there  is  no  English- 
man here  to  put  der  poor  Hindu  on  his  back." 

"I'm  not  quite  so  sure  about  that,  Herr  Doctor." 

Boelke  turned  in  his  chair  at  the  deliberate,  chal- 
lenging tone  of  Finnerty's  voice.  He  looked  at  the 
major,  then  gave  vent  to  an  unpleasant  laugh. 

"There  is  one  thing  a  Britisher  does  not  allow  to 
pass — a  sneer  at  England  by  a  German."  Finnerty 
hung  over  the  word  "German." 

"Veil,"  the  doctor  asked  innocently,  "you  vil  prove 
I  am  wrong  by  wrestling  der  Punjabi,  or  are  we  to 


84  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

fight  a  duel?"     And  again  came  the  disagreeable 
laugh. 

"If  the  prince  has  no  objection,  I  don't  know  why 
I  shouldn't  take  a  fall  out  of  one  of  these  chaps. 
It's  a  game  I'm  very  fond  of." 
i     "And,  Herr  Doctor,  I'll  have  you  on  for  the  hun- 
dred," Lord  Victor  cried  eagerly. 

"Just  as  you  like,  major,"  the  prince  said. 
/'There'll  be  no  loss  of  caste,  especially  if  we  sit  on 
our  sporting  friend  over  there  and  curb  his  betting 
propensities." 

"Right  you  are,  rajah,"  Finnerty  concurred.  "We 
wrestle  just  to  prove  that  Britain  is  not  the  poor  old 
effete  thing  the  Herr  Doctor  thinks  she  is." 

Prince  Ananda  sent  for  his  secretary,  Baboo  Chun- 
der  Sen,  and  when  the  baboo  came  said:  "Ask  Jai 
Singh  if  he  would  like  to  try  a  fall  with  the  major 
sahib." 

Balwant  Singh  came  back  with  the  baboo  when  he 
had  delivered  this  message.  Salaaming,  he  said: 
"Huzoor,  the  keddah  sahib  has  his  name  in  our  land, 
the  Land  of  the  Five  Rivers.  We  who  call  men  of 
strength  brothers  say  that  he  is  one  of  us.  No  one 
from  my  land  has  come  back  boasting  that  he  has 
conquered  the  sahib.  Jai  Singh,  in  the  favor  of  the 
gods,  has  achieved  to  victory  over  me,  so  Jai  Singh 
will  meet  with  the  sahib." 

"Fine!"  Finnerty  commented.  "I'll  need  wrest- 
ling togs,  prince." 

"The  baboo  will  take  you  to  my  room  and  get  a 
suit  for  you." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  25 

Finnerty  put  the  sapphire  in  a  silver  cigarette  box 
that  was  on  the  table,  saying:  "I'll  leave  this  here," 
and  followed  Chunder  Sen  into  the  palace. 

"Devilish  sporting,  I  call  it;  Finnerty  is  Irish,  but 
he's  a  Britisher,"  Gilfain  proclaimed.  "He'll  jolly 
well  play  rugby  with  your  friend,  Herr  Boelke." 

"In  my  country  ve  do  not  shout  until  der  victory 
is  obtained;  ve  vill  see,"  and  the  doctor  puffed  nois- 
ily at  his  cheroot. 

But  the  fish  eyes  of  the  professor  were  conveying 
to  Prince  Ananda  malevolent  messages,  Swinton  fan- 
cied. The  whole  thing  had  left  a  disturbing  impres- 
sion on  his  mind;  Boelke's  manner  suggested  a  pre- 
arrangement  with  the  prince. 

The  doctor's  unpleasing  physical  contour  would 
have  furnished  strong  evidence  against  him  on  any 
charge  of  moral  obliquity.  He  sat  on  the  chair  like 
a  large-paunched  gorilla,  his  round  head  topping  the 
fatty  mound  like  a  coconut.  His  heavy-jowled  face 
held  a  pair  of  cold,  fishy  eyes;  coarse  hair  rose  in  an 
aggressive  hedge  from  the  seamed,  low  forehead, 
and  white  patches  showed  through  the  iron-grey 
thatch  where  little  nicks  had  been  made  in  the  scalp 
by  duelling  swords  at  Heidelberg.  He  was  a  large 
man,  but  the  suggestion  of  physical  strength  was  de- 
stroyed by  a  depressing  obeseness. 

A  tall,  fine-looking  rajput  came  across  the  terrace 
toward  Darpore. 

"Ah,  Darna  Singh,"  the  prince  greeted,  rising; 
"you  are  just  in  time  to  see  a  kushti  that  will  delight 
your  warrior  heart.  This  is  my  brother-in-law,  Na- 


26  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

wab  Darna  Singh,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Swinton 
and  Gilfain  and  repeating  their  entitled  names. 

The  rajput  salaamed  with  grave  dignity,  saying 
the  honour  pleased  him. 

"Have  a  seat,"  Ananda  proffered. 

"I  have  intruded,  rajah,"  Darna  Singh  explained, 
"because  there  is  trouble  at  the  temple.  The  ma- 
hanta  is  at  the  gate " 

"Show  him  in,  Darna.  I  can't  see  him  privately 
just  now ;  the  keddah  sahib  and  Jai  Singh  are  going 
to  make  kushti." 

While  the  rajput  went  to  the  gate  for  the  mahan- 
ta,  Prince  Ananda  said  apologetically:  "Even  a 
prince  must  show  deference  to  the  keeper  of  the 
temple." 

Darna  Singh  returned,  accompanied  by  an  animat- 
ed skeleton  of  mummy  hue.  Draping  the  skin-cov- 
ered bones  was  a  loin  cloth  and  a  thread  that  hung 
diagonally  from  one  shoulder  to  the  waist. 

With  a  deep  salaam,  the  mahanta,  trembling  with 
indignation,  panted:  "Dharama  comes  in  the  morn- 
ing with  his  Buddhistic  devils  to  desecrate  the  temple 
by  placing  in  it  that  brass  Buddha — accursed  image ! 
— he  has  brought  from  the  land  of  Japan." 

"Ah!"  The  exclamation  was  from  Lord  Victor 
as  Finnerty  appeared. 

"Here,  Darna,"  Ananda  cried,  "hold  the  mahan-j 
ta  till  this  is  over;  I  don't  want  to  miss  it." 

Darna  Singh  led  the  Brahmin  beyond  the  table  at 
which  the  sahibs  were  grouped,  explaining  that  Prince 
Ananda  would  speak  to  him  presently. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  27 

Now  Finnerty,  coming  into  the  light,  slipped  a 
robe  from  his  shoulders  and  stood  beside  Jai  Singh, 
looking  like  a  sculptured  form  of  ivory. 

Swinton  caught  his  breath  in  a  gasp  of  admira- 
tion; he  had  never  seen  such  a  superb  being.  Jai 
Singh,  that  a  moment  before  had  seemed  of  match- 
less mould,  now  suffered  by  comparison.  Each  move 
of  the  Irishman  was  like  the  shifting  of  a  supple 
gladiator.  The  shoulders,  the  loins,  the  overlapping 
muscles  of  his  arms  were  like  those  of  Hercules. 

Lord  Victor  was  muttering:  "My  word!  Poor 
old  decadent  England — what!" 

Several  times  as  he  sat  there  Swinton  had  felt  vi- 
brant thrills,  as  if  eyes  that  blazed  with  intensity 
were  on  him,  and  always  as  he  had  turned  in  answer 
to  the  unseen  influence  he  had  instinctively  looked  to 
a  jalousied  balcony  above  them.  Now  he  caught 
the  glint  of  white  fingers  between  the  leaves  of  the 
lattice  as  if  a  hand  vibrated  them.  He  could  have 
sworn  Finnerty's  erect  head  had  drooped  in  recog- 
nition. 

From  the  first  grapple  there  was  evident  savagery 
on  the  part  of  Jai  Singh.  He  had  toyed  leisurely 
with  Balwant;  now  he  bore  in  like  a  savage  beast. 

"By  gad!"  Lord  Victor  growled  once,  "that  Hin- 
du bounder  is  fighting  foul !" 

Finnerty  had  gone  to  his  hands  and  knees  in  de- 
fence. The  Punjabi,  lying  along  the  arched  back, 
thrust  his  right  hand  under  the  major's  armpit  as 
if  seeking  for  a  half-Nelson;  but  his  hand,  creeping 
up  to  the  neck,  straightened  out  to  thrust  two  fingers 


28  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

into  Finnerty's  nostrils,  the  big  thumb  wedged  against 
the  latter's  windpipe.  In  a  flash  the  white  man  was 
in  a  vise,  for  Jai  Singh  had  gripped  the  wrist  of  his 
fouling  arm  with  his  left  hand,  and  was  pressing  the 
forearm  upon  the  back  of  his  opponent's  neck. 

In  his  foul  endeavour  Jai  Singh  had  lost  defence. 
A  hand  took  him  by  the  left  wrist,  a  corkscrew  twist 
broke  his  hold,  and  he  commenced  to  go  over  for- 
ward in  tortured  slowness,  drawn  by  the  wracking 
pain  of  his  twisted  joints.  One  of  his  shoulder  blades 
lay  against  the  mat  when,  by  a  mighty  wrench,  he 
freed  his  wrist  and  pirouetted  on  his  round  bullet 
head  clear  of  Finnerty's  clutch. 

Again,  as  they  stood  hand  to  shoulder,  making  a 
feint  as  if  to  grapple,  Jai  Singh  tried  a  foul.  The 
heel  of  Finnerty's  palm,  thrust  with  dynamic  force 
upward,  caught  him  under  the  chin  with  such  power 
that  he  all  but  turned  a  complete  somersault  back- 
ward. 

This  was  too  much  for  Lord  Victor.  With  a  cry 
of  "Well  bowled,  old  top !"  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  in 
his  excitement  careening  his  glass  of  whisky  and 
soda,  the  liquid  splashing  across  the  fat  legs  of  Doc- 
tor Boelke. 

Like  a  hippopotamus  emerging  from  a  pool, 
Boelke  reared  upward;  the  table,  at  a  thrust  from 
his  hand,  reeled  groggily  on  its  frail  legs  and  then 
volplaned,  shooting  its  contents  over  the  marble 
floor. 

"Never  mind,"  Prince  Ananda  admonished; 
"leave  it  to  the  servants." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  29 

Finnerty  was  wrestling  with  caution — waiting  for 
the  inevitable  careless  chance  that  would  give  him 
victory. 

Jai  Singh's  foul  tactics  confirmed  Swinton's  sus- 
picion that  the  bout  was  a  prearranged  plot;  the 
Punjabi  was  acting  under  orders.  The  captain  had 
served  in  the  Punjab  and  knew  that  native  wrestlers 
were  not  given  to  such  practices.  He  watched  Prince 
Ananda,  but  the  latter's  immobile  face  gave  no  sign 
of  disapproval. 

A  startled  gasp  from  Lord  Victor  caused  him  to 
look  at  the  wrestlers.  He  had  seen  enough  of 
wrestling  to  know  what  had  happened.  Jai  Singh's 
weight  rested  on  one  leg  he  had  crooked  behind  Fin- 
nerty's  knee  joint,  and  he  was  pulling  up  against  this 
wedge  the  major's  foot  by  a  hold  on  the  big  toe.  It 
was  a  barred  hold  in  amateur  wrestling;  a  chance  to 
administer  pain,  instead  of  an  exhibition  of  strength 
or  agility.  The  captain  felt,  with  a  sense  of  defeat, 
that  Finnerty  must  yield  to  the  pain  or  have  his  leg 
broken. 

There  was  a  hideous  grin  of  triumph  on  the  face 
of  Jai  Singh.  Then,  almost  before  Swinton's  brain 
could  register  these  startling  things,  the  leer  of  vic- 
tory vanished;  the  Punjabi's  lips  framed  some 
startled  cry;  his  hands  fell  to  his  side;  his  torso 
drooped  forward,  and  he  collapsed  as  though  his 
legs  were  paralysed. 

Finnerty  half  rose  and  turned  the  Punjabi  over  on 
his  back,  pressing  his  shoulders  to  the  mat;  then  he 


SO  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

took  the  black  nose  between  finger  and  thumb  and 
tweaked  it. 

"Topping !  Ripping  I"  Gilf  ain  shouted  the  words. 
"It  was  coming  to  the  cad!" 

The  others  sat  numbed  to  silence  by  the  extraordi- 
nary suddenness  of  the  collapse.  Each  one  under- 
stood the  debasing  retribution  the  keddah  sahib  had 
ineted  out  to  his  foul-fighting  opponent. 

Swinton,  watching,  saw  consternation  pall  the 
heavy-jowled  face  of  the  Prussian.  The  debonair 
air  had  fallen  away  from  the  prince.  To  hide  his 
chagrin  he  called  Darna  Singh  to  bring  the  mahanta 
to  him.  He  spoke  rapidly  in  a  low  voice  to  the 
priest,  and  when  he  had  finished,  the  latter  departed, 
accompanied  by  Darna  Singh. 

When  Finnerry  came  back  to  them  Prince  Ananda 
had  regained  his  sangfroid;  he  smiled  a  greeting, 
holding  out  his  hand,  and  said:  "You  deserve  to 
win." 

"I  should  say  so!"  Gilfain  added.  "That  rotter 
would  have  been  mobbed  at  a  bout  in  London." 

Boelke  mumbled:  "You  are  very  strong,  major." 

Finnerty,  peeping  into  the  silver  box  that  had  been 
replaced  by  the  servants  on  the  table,  asked:  "Any 
of  you  chaps  got  that  bell  clapper?  I  left  it  here." 

Nobody  had;  nobody  knew  anything  about  it.  In- 
stinctively each  one  felt  his  pockets  to  be  sure  that, 
in  the  excitement  of  the  struggle,  he  hadn't  put  it 
away;  then  each  one  remembered  that  he  hadn't  seen 
it  since  the  major  deposited  it  in  the  silver  box. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  31 

"The  table  was  upset,"  Swinton  said.  "Look  on 
the  floor." 

Even  Prince  Ananda  joined  in  the  search.  Then 
the  servants  were  questioned.  They  knew  nothing 
of  its  whereabouts;  all  denied  that  they  had  seen  the 
keddah  sahib  put  it  in  the  box. 

A  little  constraint  crept  into  the  search.  Prince 
Ananda's  brother-in-law  and  the  temple  priest  had 
been  there  and  had  departed;  the  prince's  servants 
had  been  going  and  coming. 

"It  may  have  rolled  off  the  terrace  into  the  wa- 
ter," Prince  Ananda  suggested.  "In  the  morning 
I'll  have  the  lake  searched  at  this  point." 

"It  doesn't  matter,"  Finnerty  declared. 

"It  does,  my  dear  major,"  Ananda  objected.  "I'll 
put  pressure  on  the  servants,  for  I'm  very  much 
afraid  one  of  them  has  stolen  it.  At  any  rate,  you've 
been  looted  in  my  house,  and  if  I  don't  find  your  sap- 
phire you  shall  have  the  finest  jewel  Hamilton  Com- 
pany can  send  up  from  Calcutta." 

"My  young  friend  was  too  enthusiastic,"  Doctor 
Boelke  said  with  a  mirthless  grin ;  "he  has  also  soaked 
my  legs." 

The  savage  wrestling  bout  and  the  mysterious  loss 
of  the  sapphire  brought  a  depressing  vacuity  of 
speech.  The  guests  were  soon  waiting  in  the  court- 
yard for  the  tonga. 

Swinton  stepped  over  to  where  Finnerty  waited 
in  his  dogcart  while  a  servant  lighted  the  lamps,  say- 
ing: "Prince  Ananda  has  arranged  that  we  are  to 
call  on  the  maharajah  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow,  and 


82  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

I'd  like  to  ride  over  to  see  your  elephants  later  on." 

"Come  for  tiffin,"  the  major  invited. 

As  the  tonga  carrying  Lord  Victor  and  Swinton 
was  starting,  Ananda  said:  "I've  told  the  driver  to 
show  you  the  Maha  Bodhi  Temple  and  a  pagoda 
on  your  way;  it  is  there  that  Prince  Sakya  Singha 
attained  to  the  Buddha.  Good  night." 

Halfway  down  the  tonga  stopped,  and  their  eyes 
picked  up,  off  to  the  right,  a  ravishing  sight.  A 
gloomed  hill,  rising  like  a  plinth  of  black  marble, 
held  on  its  top  a  fairy-lined  structure.  Like  a  gossa- 
mer web  or  a  proportioned  fern,  a  wooden  temple 
lay  against  the  moonlit  sky;  beside  it,  towering  high 
to  a  slender  spire,  was  the  pagoda,  its  gold-leafed 
wall  softened  to  burnished  silver  by  the  gentling 
moon.  A  breeze  stirred  a  thousand  bells  that  hung 
in  a  golden  umbrella  above  the  spire,  and  the  soft 
tinkle-tinkle-tinkle  of  their  many  tongues  was  like 
the  song  of  falling  waters  on  a  pebbled  bed  till  hushed 
by  a  giant  gong  that  sent  its  booming  notes  rever- 
berating across  the  hills  as  some  temple  priest  beat 
with  muffled  club  its  bronzed  side. 

"Devilish  serene  sort  of  thing,  don't  you  think?" 
Lord  Victor  managed  to  put  his  poetic  emotions  into 
that  much  prose  banality. 

The  driver,  not  understanding  the  English  words, 
said  in  Hindustani :  "There  will  be  much  war  there 
to-morrow  when  they  fight  over  their  gods." 

As  if  his  forecast  had  wakened  evil  genii  of  strife 
up  in  the  hills,  the  fierce  blare  of  a  conch  shell,  joined 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  SS 

in  clamour  by  clanging  temple  bells,  came  across  the 
valley,  shattering  its  holy  calm. 

"My  aunt!  What  a  beastly  din!"  Lord  Victor 
exclaimed. 

"War,"  the  driver  announced  indifferently. 

Human  voices  pitched  to  the  acute  scale  of  con- 
tending demons  now  sat  astride  the  sound  waves. 

"Gad!  Dharama  has  stolen  a  march  on  the  ma- 
hanta  and  is  sneaking  in  his  Buddha  by  moonlight," 
Swinton  declared. 

The  tumult  grew  in  intensity;  torches  flashed  and 
dimmed  in  and  out  about  the  temple  like  evil  eyes. 

"Shall  we  take  a  peep,  old  top?"  Lord  Victor 
asked,  eagerness  in  his  voice. 

Swinton  spoke  to  the  driver,  asking  about  the 
road,  and  learned  that,  turning  off  to  the  right  at 
that  point,  it  wound  down  the  mountainside  and  up 
the  other  hill  to  the  temple. 

Just  at  that  instant  there  came  from  down  the 
road  the  clatter  of  galloping  hoofs  and  the  whirling 
bang  of  reckless  wheels.  In  seconds  the  keddah 
sahib's  dogcart  swirled  into  view;  he  reined  up, 
throwing  his  horse  almost  on  his  haunches. 

"That  mongrel  Buddhist,  Dharama,  is  up  to  his 
deviltry;  I've  got  to  stop  him!" 

He  was  gone. 

At  a  sharp  order  from  Swinton  the  tonga  fol- 
lowed, the  driver,  eager  to  see  the  fray,  carrying 
them  along  at  perilous  speed.  At  each  sharp  turn, 
with  its  sheer  drop  of  a  hundred  feet  or  more  on  the 
outside,  the  tonga  swung  around,  careening  to  one 


34  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

of  its  two  wheels,  the  other  spinning  idly  in  the  air. 
The  little  ruby  eyes  in  the  back  of  the  dogcart's 
lamps  twinkling  ahead  seemed  to  inspire  their  driver 
with  reckless  rivalry. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  temple  the  battle  had 
reached  its  climax.  The  brass  Buddha,  its  yellow 
face  with  the  sightless  eyes  of  meditation  staring  up 
in  oblivious  quietude  to  the  skies,  was  lying  all  alone 
just  within  the  temple  gate.  Without,  Dharama  and 
his  Buddhists  battled  the  smaller  force  of  the  ma- 
hanta,  who  led  it  with  fanatical  fervour. 

They  saw  the  keddah  sahib  towering  above  the 
fighting  mob,  his  spread  arms  raised  as  if  exhorting 
them  to  desist  from  strife.  The  combatants  broke 
against  his  body  like  stormy  waves,  his  words  were 
drowned  by  the  tumult  of  the  passion  cries. 

Swinton  and  Lord  Victor  dropped  from  the  tonga, 
and  as  they  ran  toward  the  riot  something  happened. 
A  native  close  to  Dharama  struck  at  Finnerty  with  a 
long  fighting  staff,  the  blow  falling  on  an  arm  the 
Irishman  thrust  forward  as  guard.  Like  an  enraged 
bull  bison,  the  keddah  sahib  charged.  Dharama  and 
the  man  who  had  struck  were  caught  by  the  throats 
and  their  heads  knocked  together  as  though  they 
were  puppets ;  then  Dharama  was  twisted  about,  and 
the  foot  of  the  big  Irishman  lifted  him  with  a  sweep- 
ing kick.  He  catapulted  out  of  the  fray.  Then  the 
keddah  sahib's  fists  smote  here  and  there,  until,  dis- 
couraged by  the  fate  of  their  leader  and  the  new  re- 
enforcements — for  Lord  Victor  and  Captain  Swin- 
ton were  now  busy — the  Buddhists  broke  and  fled. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  35 

"Faith,  it's  a  busy  night,  captain!"  Finnerty  ex- 
claimed as  he  wiped  perspiration  from  his  forehead. 
He  turned  to  the  mahanta,  and,  pointing  to  the  yel- 
low god,  said:  "Roll  that  thing  down  the  hill!" 

In  a  frenzy  of  delight  the  temple  adherents  laid 
hands  upon  the  brass  Buddha.  It  took  their  united 
strength  to  drag  and  roll  it  to  the  edge  of  the  slop- 
ing hillside  a  hundred  feet  away.  The  sahibs  stood 
on  the  brink,  watching  the  image  that  glinted  in  the 
moonlight  as  it  tumbled  grotesquely  over  and  over 
down  the  declivity  till  it  plunged  into  the  muddy 
waters  of  Gupti  Nala. 

"There'll  be  no  more  trouble  over  installing  that 
idol  in  the  temple  for  some  time,"  Finnerty  chuckled. 

Then  they  climbed  into  tonga  and  dogcart,  and 
sped  homeward. 


Chapter  II 

THE  bungalow  Swinton  and  Lord  Victor  occu- 
pied was  in  a  large,  brick-walled  compound, 
in  the  cantonments,  that  was  known  as  the 
Dak  Compound,  because  it  contained  three  bunga- 
lows the  maharajah  maintained  for  visiting  guests. 

The  tonga,  finishing  its  clattering  trip  from  the 
Maha  Bodhi  Temple,  swung  through  the  big  gate  to 
a  circular  driveway,  bordered  by  a  yellow-and-green 
mottled  wall  of  crotons,  here  and  there  ablaze  with 
the  flaming  blood-red  hibiscus  and  its  scarlet  rival, 
the  Shoe  flower.  Swinton  took  a  deep  draft  of  the 
perfumed  air  that  drifted  lazily  from  pink-cheeked 
oleander  and  jasmine;  then  he  cursed,  for  a  brackish 
taint  of  hookah  killed  in  his  nostrils  the  sweet  per- 
fume. 

To  his  right  lay  one  of  the  guest  bungalows,  and 
a  light,  hanging  on  the  veranda,  showed  a  billowy 
form  of  large  proportions  filling  an  armchair.  Some- 
body must  have  arrived,  for  the  bungalow  had  been 
empty,  the  captain  mentally  noted. 

In  bed,  Swinton  drifted  from  a  tangle  of  queries 
into  slumber.  Why  had  the  German  drawn  Finnerty 
into  wrestling  the  Punjabi?  Why  had  some  one 
stolen  the  uncut  sapphire?  What  was  behind  the 
prince's  pose  in  religion?  Who  was  the  woman  be- 

36 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  37 

hind  the  lattice — yes,  it  was  a  woman Then 

Swinton  drowsed  off. 

It  is  soul  racking  to  awaken  in  a  strange  room, 
startled  from  sleep  by  unplaceable  sounds,  to  ex- 
perience that  hopeless  lostness,  to  mentally  grope  for 
a  door  or  a  window  in  the  way  of  a  familiar  mark 
to  assist  one's  location.  When  Captain  Swinton  was 
thrust  out  of  deep  slumber  by  a  demoniac  tumult  he 
came  into  consciousness  in  just  such  an  environment. 
Lost  souls  torturing  in  Hades  could  not  have  given 
expression  to  more  vocal  agony  than  the  clamour 
that  rent  the  night. 

Swinton  was  on  his  feet  before  he  had  mentally 
arranged  his  habitat.  He  groped  in  the  gloom  for 
something  of  substance  in  the  sea  of  uncertainty; 
his  hands  fell  upon  the  table,  and,  miraculously,  a 
match  box.  Then  he  lighted  a  lamp,  pushed  out  into 
the  passage,  and  saw  Lord  Victor's  pajamaed  figure 
coming  toward  him. 

"What  a  bally  row  I"  the  latter  complained  sleep- 
ily. "Must  be  slaughter  I" 

Out  on  the  veranda,  they  located  the  vocal  bar- 
rage ;  it  was  being  fired  from  the  bungalow  in  which 
they  had  seen  the  bulky  figure  in  white.  Perhaps  the 
vociferous  one  had  seen  their  light,  for  he  was  cry- 
ing: "Oh,  my  lord  and  master,  save  me!  Tiger  is 
biting  to  my  death!  I  am  too  fearful  to  explore 
across  the  compound.  Heroic  masters,  come  with 
guns!" 

"Oh,  I  say!     What  a  devilish  shindy!"     Lord 


38  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Victor  contributed  petulantly.  "Is  that  bounder  pull- 
ing our  legs?" 

"It's  a  baboo,  and  a  baboo  has  no  sense  of  hu- 
mour; he  doesn't  pull  legs,"  the  captain  answered. 
"But  he  does  get  badly  funked." 

Another  voice  had  joined  issue.  Swinton  knew 
it  for  a  "chee-chee"  voice,  a  half-caste's. 

"Yes,  sar,"  the  new  pleader  thrust  out  across  the 
compound;  "we  are  without  firearms,  but  a  prowling 
tiger  is  waiting  to  devour  us." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  bellowing  scream  from 
his  companion,  an  agonised  cry  of  fright.  As  if  in 
lordly  reproach,  the  clamour  was  drowned  by  a  re- 
verberating growl :  "Waugh-h-h!" 

"Gad,  man!  Devilish  like  a  leopard!"  And  the 
captain  darted  into  his  room  to  reappear  with  a  mag- 
azine rifle.  A  bearer  came  running  in  from  the  cook- 
house, a  lighted  lantern  in  his  hand,  at  that  instant. 

"Here,  Gilfain,"  Swinton  called,  "grab  the  lan- 
tern. If  it's  a  leopard  he'll  slink  away  when  he  sees 
the  light,  so  we  may  not  get  a  shot.  Come  on!"  He 
was  dropping  cartridges  into  the  magazine  of  his 
rifle.  "Pardus  is  probably  sneaking  around  after  a 
goat  or  a  dog.  Come  on;  keep  close  behind  me  so 
the  light  shines  ahead." 

"Fm  game,  old  chappie,"  Lord  Gilfain  answered 
cheerily.  "Push  on;  this  is  spiffen!" 

The  gravel  was  cruel  to  their  bare  feet,  but  in  the 
heat  of  the  hunt  they  put  this  away  for  future  refer- 
ence. As  they  neared  the  other  bungalow  the  cap- 
tain suddenly  stopped  and  threw  his  gun  to  his 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  39 

shoulder;  then  he  lowered  it,  saying:  "Thought  I 
saw  something  slip  into  the  bushes,  but  I  don't  want 
to  pot  a  native." 

They  reached  the  bungalow,  and  as  Swinton  pushed 
open  a  wooden  door  he  was  greeted  by  wordy  tumult. 
Screamed  phrases  issued  from  a  bedroom  that  opened 
off  the  room  in  which  they  stood. 

"Go  away,  jungle  devil!  O  Lord!  I  shall  be 
eated!" 

"Don't  be  an  ass !  Come  out  here  I"  the  captain 
commanded. 

The  person  did.  One  peep  through  the  door  to 
see  that  the  English  voice  did  not  belong  to  a  ghost, 
and  a  baboo  charged  out  to  throw  his  arms  around 
the  sahib,  sobbing:  "Oh,  my  lord,  I  am  safe !  I  will 
pray  always  for  you." 

Pushed  off  by  Swinton,  he  collapsed  in  a  chair, 
weeping  in  the  relief  of  his  terror. 

The  baboo's  prodigal  gratitude  had  obliterated  a 
companion  who  had  followed  him  from  the  room. 
Now  the  latter  stood  in  the  radiancy  of  Lord  Victor's 
lantern,  saying:  "Baboo  Lall  Mohun  Dass  has  been 
awed  by  a  large  tiger,  but  we  have  beat  the  cat  off." 

The  speaker  was  a  slim,  very  dark  half-caste  clad 
in  white  trousers  and  jaran  coat. 

"It  is  Mr.  Perreira."  And  Baboo  Dass  stopped 
sobbing  while  he  made  this  momentous  announce- 
ment. 

"What's  all  the  outcry  about,  baboo?"  the  cap- 
tain asked. 

"Sar,"  Baboo  Dass  answered,  "I  will  narrative 


40  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

from  the  beginning:  I  am  coming  from  Calcutta  to- 
day, and  Mr.  Perreira  is  old  friend,  college  chum, 
he  is  come  here  to  spend  evening  in  familiar  inter- 
course. We  are  talking  too  late  of  pranks  we  exe- 
cute against  high  authority  in  college.  Kuda  be 
thanked!  I  have  close  the  window  because  reading 
that  mosquito  bring  malaria — ugh!"  With  a  yell 
the  baboo  sprang  to  his  feet;  Perreira,  leaning 
against  the  centre  table,  had  knocked  off  a  metal 
ornament.  "Excuse  me,  masters,  I  am  upset  by  that 
debased  tiger."  He  collapsed  into  a  chair. 

"What  happened?"  Swinton  queried  sharply,  for 
his  feet  were  beginning  to  sting  from  the  trip  over 
the  gravel. 

"We  hear  mysterious  noise — tap,  tap ;  some  spirit 
is  tickle  the  window.  I  look,  and  there,  masters,  spy- 
ing at  me  is  some  old  fellow  of  evil  countenance; 
like  a  guru^  with  grey  whiskers  and  big  horn  spec- 
tacles. But  his  eyes — O  Kuda !  Very  brave  I  stand 
up  and  say,  'Go  away,  you  old  reprobate!'  because 
he  is  prying." 

"Oh,  my  aunt!"  Gilfain  muttered. 

"Then  that  old  villain  that  is  an  evil  spirit  changes 
himself  into  a  tiger  and  grins  at  me.  Fangs  like  a 
shark  has  got — horrible!  I  call  loudly  for  help 
because  I  have  not  firearms.  Then  I  hear  my  lord's 
voice  out  here  in  the  room  and  I  am  saved." 

"Yes,  sar,  that  is  true,"  Perreira  affirmed.  "I  am 
not  flustered,  but  hold  the  windows  so  tiger  not  climb- 
ing in." 

Lord  Victor,  raising  the  lantern,  looked  into  the 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  41 

captain's  eyes.  "What  do  you  make  of  these  two 
bounders?" 

"You'd  better  go  back  to  bed,  baboo,"  Swinton 
advised;  "you've  just  had  a  nightmare — eaten  too 
much  curry." 

But  Baboo  Dass  swore  he  had  seen  a  beast  with 
his  hands  on  the  window. 

"We'll  soon  prove  it.  If  the  tiger  stood  up  there, 
he  will  have  left  his  pugs  in  the  sand,"  Swinton  de- 
clared as  he  moved  toward  the  door.  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  baboo  and  Perreira,  who  hung  close 
as  they  went  down  the  steps  and  around  the  wall. 

As  Gilfain  passed  the  lantern  close  to  the  sandy 
soil  beneath  the  window,  Swinton  gave  a  gasp  of 
astonishment,  for  there  were  footprints  of  a  tiger, 
the  largest  he  had  ever  seen ;  their  position,  the  marks 
of  the  claws  in  the  earth,  indicated  that  the  great  cat 
had  actually  stood  up  to  look  into  the  room. 

"Well,  he's  gone  now,  anyway,"  the  captain  said, 
turning  back  to  the  driveway.  "You'd  better  go  to 
bed,  baboo;  he  won't  trouble  you  any  more  to-night." 

But  Mohun  Dass  wept  and  prayed  for  the  sahib 
to  stay  and  protect  him;  he  would  go  mad  in  the 
bungalow  without  firearms. 

"I  say,  Swinton,"  Lord  Victor  interposed,  "these 
poor  chaps'  nerves  seem  pretty  well  shimmered,  don't 
you  think?  Shall  we  take  them  over  to  our  bunga- 
low and  give  them  a  brandy?" 

The  captain  hesitated;  he  didn't  like  baboos.  But 
when  Perreira  acclaimed:  "Yes,  sar,  a  peg  will  stim- 
ulate our  hearts — thank  you,  kind  gentleman;  and 


42  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

his  highness,  the  rajah,  will  thank  you  for  saving  me, 
for  I  am  important  artisan,"  his  dead-blue  eyes 
glinted. 

"Come  on,  then!"  he  said,  picking  his  way  gin- 
gerly over  the  gravel. 

Inside  the  bungalow,  Swinton  tossed  his  keys  to 

the  bearer,  saying:  "Bring "  He  turned  to 

Perreira :  "What  will  you  have,  brandy  or  whisky?" 

The  half-caste  smacked  his  bluish  lips.  "Any  one 
is  good,  sar." 

But  Lall  Mohun  Dass  interposed:  "Salaam,  my 
preserver,  I  am  a  man  because  of  religious  scruples 
teetotal,  and  whisky  is  convivial  beverage ;  but  bran- 
dy is  medicinal,  prescribed  by  doctor." 

Swinton  nodded  to  the  bearer,  and  when  the  lat- 
ter, unlocking  the  liquor  cabinet,  brought  the  brandy 
and  glasses,  he  said:  "Put  it  on  the  table  and  go." 
Then,  at  a  suggestion,  Perreira  poured  copious  drafts 
for  himself  and  Baboo  Dass. 

As  the  water  of  life  scorched  its  way  through  the 
thin  veins  of  the  half-caste  he  underwent  a  metamor- 
phosis. The  face  that  had  looked  so  pinched  and 
blue  grey  with  fear  took  on  a  warmer  copper  tint; 
his  eyes  that  had  been  lustreless  warmed  till  they 
glowed;  his  shoulders  squared  up;  the  jaran  coat 
sagged  less. 

"Ah,  sahib,  you  are  kind  gentleman."  Without 
invitation,  he  dragged  a  chair  to  the  table  and  sat 
down.  At  a  nod  from  Swinton,  the  baboo  drew  up 
another.  The  captain  and  Lord  Victor  sat  down, 
the  latter  rather  puzzled  over  his  companion's  mood. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  43 

He  knew  Swinton's  rigid  ideas  about  association  with 
the  natives;  particularly  what  he  called  the  "greasy 
Bengali  baboo." 

The  brandy  had  quieted  Mohun  Dass'  terror. 
His  eyes  that  had  constantly  sought  the  open  door 
with  apprehension  now  hovered  benignantly  upon 
the  bottle  that  still  graced  the  centre  of  the  table. 

"Yes,  sar,  kind  gentleman,"  Perreira  said;  "if  I'd 
had  a  hooker  of  brandy  like  that  and  a  gun  like  that 
'Certus  Cordite'  " — he  pointed  to  the  weapon  Swin- 
ton  had  deposited  on  the  floor — "I  would  go  out  and 
blow  that  fool  tiger  to  hell." 

Baboo  Dass  gave  a  fatty  laugh.  "Do  not  believe 
him,  kind  gentlemans — he  make  ungodly  boast;  he 
was  crawled  under  the  bed." 

"And you,  baboo?"  Perreira  questioned.  "Major 
sahib " 

"I  am  not  a  major,"  Swinton  corrected;  "we  are 
just  two  Englishmen  who  have  come  out  here  for 
some  shooting." 

This  statement  had  a  curious  effect  on  Mohun 
Dass.  All  his  class  stood  in  awe  of  the  military,  but 
toward  the  globe-trotting,  sporting  Englishman  they 
could  hardly  conceal  their  natural  arrogance.  A  look 
of  assured  familiarity  crept  into  his  fat  countenance; 
he  showed  his  white  teeth  with  the  little,  reddish 
lines  between  them,  due  to  pan  chewing.  "You  are 
globe-trotter  gentlemans — I  know.  Will  you  writ- 
ing book,  too?" 

The  captain  nodded. 

"You  will  get  Forbes  Hindustani  dictionary  and 


44  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

spell  bungalow  'bangla,'  and  the  book  will  stink  like 
the  lamp  because  of  academic  propensity.  Never 
mind,  kind  gentleman,  the  publics  will  think  you 
know  about  India  and  caste,  too." 

The  captain  noting  Perreira's  eyes  devouring  the 
bottle  shoved  it  toward  the  half-caste.  Gilfain,  with 
a  sigh  of  not  understanding,  rose,  went  along  to 
their  rooms,  and  returned  with  slippers  and  some 
cheroots. 

Perreira  had  helped  himself  and  the  baboo  to 
another  generous  drink,  the  latter  protesting  weakly. 

"I  see  you  know  about  guns,  Perreira,"  Swinton 
said,  lifting  the  rifle  to  his  knee.  "How  do  you  hap- 
pen to  know  this  is  a  Cordite?" 

"Cordite?  Ha,  ha!"  And  the  half-caste's  cackle 
was  a  triumphant  note.  He  put  a  pair  of  attenuated 
fingers  into  the  top  pocket  of  his  jaran  coat  and  drew 
from  beneath  a  very  dirty  handkerchief  a  lump  of 
something  that  resembled  an  unbaked  biscuit.  He 
flipped  it  to  the  table  as  though  he  were  tossing  a 
box  of  cigarettes.  "Yes,  sars,  that  is  cordite — dyna- 
mite, whatever  you  like  to  call  him." 

"Good  God!  I  say,  you  silly  ass!"  And  Lord 
Victor,  pushing  back  his  chair,  stood  up. 

Baboo  Dass,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  feet 
curled  up  under  his  fat  thighs,  tumbled  from  the 
chair,  and,  standing  back  from  the  table,  cried: 
"Mera  bap!  Tigers  eating  and  explosives  produc- 
ing eruption  of  death.  O  Kuda,  my  poor  families !" 

Swinton  checked  an  involuntary  movement  of  re- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  45 

treat,  and  the  compelling  void  of  his  eyes  drew  from 
the  half-caste  an  explanation : 

"Take  seat,  kind  gentlemans  and  Baboo  Lall  Mo- 
hun  Dass.  This  thing  is  innocent  as  baby  of  explo- 
sion. It  is  cordite  not  yet  finish.  I  was  in  the  gov- 
ernment cordite  factory  here  in "  He  checked, 

looked  over  his  shoulder  toward  the  front  door,  and 
then  continued:  "Yes,  sar,  I  was  gov'ment  expert 
man  to  mix  cordite.  If  you  don't  believe,  listen, 
gentlemans.  Cordite  is  fifty-eight  parts  nitroglycerin, 
thirty-seven  parts  guncotton,  five  parts  mineral  jelly, 
and,  of  course,  acetone  is  used  as  solvent.  Now  all 
that  is  mix  by  hand,  and  while  these  parts  explode  like 
hell  when  separate,  when  they  are  mix  they  are  no 
harm.  And  I  was  expert  for  mixing.  I  am  expert 
on  smokeless  powder  and  all  kinds  of  guns  because  I 
am  home  in  England  working  for  Curtis  &  Harper 
Co.  in  their  factory.  That  why  Rajah  Darpore  en- 
gage me." 

Swinton's  eyes  twitched  three  times,  but  he  gave 
no  other  sign. 

Baboo  Dass  drew  himself  into  the  conversation. 
"This  mans,  Perreira,  been  at  school  in  Howrah 
with  me,  but  I  am  now  B.  A.,  and  trusted  head  kran- 
nie  for  Hamilton  Company,  jewel " 

With  a  gasp  he  stopped  and  thrust  a  hand  under 
his  jacket;  then  explained:  "Sahib,  I  forgetting  some- 
thing because  of  strict  attention  to  tiger  business. 
You  are  honourable  gentleman  who  has  save  my  life, 
so  I  will  show  the  satanic  thing,  and  you  can  write 
story  about  some  ghost  jewels." 


46  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

He  unclasped  from  his  neck  a  heavy  platinum 
chain,  and,  first  casting  a  furtive  glance  toward  the 
door,  drew  forth  a  pear-shaped  casket  of  the  same 
metal,  saying:  "You  see,  sar,  not  so  glorified  in 
splendour  as  to  seduce  thieves,  but  inside  is  marvel 
of  thing." 

He  thrust  the  casket  toward  Swinton,  and  laughed 
in  toper  glee  when  the  captain  explored  vainly  its 
smooth  shell  for  a  manner  of  opening  it.  "Allow 
me,  sar,"  and,  Baboo  Dass  touching  some  hidden 
mechanism,  the  shell  opened  like  a  pea  pod,  exposing 
to  the  startled  captain's  eyes  an  exact  mate  to  the 
sapphire  Finnerty  had  lost. 

Lord  Victor,  his  unschooled  eyes  popping  like  a 

lobster's,  began:  "Oh,  I  say "  Then  he  broke 

off  with  a  yelp  of  pain,  for  Swinton's  heel  had  all 
but  smashed  his  big  toe  beneath  the  table. 

"I  am  bringing  for  the  maharajah,"  Baboo  Dass 
explained.  "The  old  boy  is  gourmand  for  articles 
of  vertu." 

"Articles  of  virtue!"  And  Perreira  leered  fool- 
ishly. "Prince  Ananda  is  the  Johnnie  to  collect  ar- 
ticles of  virtue;  he  imports  from  Europe." 

"Mr.  Perreira  is  gay  young  dog!"  Baboo  Daas 
leaned  heavily  across  the  table.  "Perhaps  Shazada 
Ananda  is  in  big  hurry  to  sit  on  the  throne." 

"There's  always  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of  these 
things,  sir,"  and  Perreira  twisted  his  eyes  into  an 
owllike  look  of  wisdom. 

"You  see,  sar,"  the  baboo  elucidated,  "Prince 
Ananda  has  give  this  to  the  maharajah,  and  it  is  ac- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  47 

cursed  agent  of  evil;  because  of  it  I  am  nearly  eated 
of  a  tiger." 

On  the  sapphire  was  the  same  inscription  Swinton 
had  seen  on  the  stolen  stone. 

"That  is  Persian  characters,  sahib,"  Baboo  Dass 
declared  ponderously.  "It  is  used  for  'mine,1  but  in 
learned  way  madun  is  proper  name  for  mine,  and 
Rikaz,  this  word,  means  buried  treasure.  I  am. 
learned  in  dead  languages — Sanskrit,  Pali.  It  is 
sacred  stone.  If  you  possessing  patience,  sahib,  I 
will  narrative  obscure  histories  of  Buddhism." 

"Oh,  my  aunt!"  The  already  bored  Lord  Victor 
yawned. 

But  Captain  Swinton  declared  earnestly:  "If  you 
do,  baboo,  I  will  place  your  name  in  my  book  as  an 
authority." 

Mohun  Dass'  breast  swelled  with  prospective 
glory. 

"I  say,  old  chappie,  if  we're  to  sit  out  the  act  I'm 
going  to  have  a  B.  and  S.,"  and  Gilfain  reached  for 
the  bottle. 

"We'll  all  have  one,"  declared  the  captain  to  the 
delight  of  Perreira. 

"Kind  sar,"  Baboo  Dass  pleaded,  "do  not  speak 
these  things  to-morrow,  for  my  caste  frowning 
against  bacchanalian  feast." 

"We  promise,  old  top!"  Lord  Victor  declared 
solemnly,  and  Swinton  mentally  added:  "The  Lord 
forbid!" 

"Now,  sar,"  began  Baboo  Dass,  "in  Buddhist  book 
'Paramamta  Maju,'  is  describe  the  Logha,  the  earth, 


48  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

telling  it  rests  on  three  great  sapphires,  and  beneath 
is  big  rock  and  plenty  oceans.  And  according  to  that 
book  is  three  sacred  sapphires  knocking  around 
loose.  If  any  man  have  them  three  together  he  is 
the  true  Buddha  and  rules  all  India.  Prince  Sakya 
Singha  got  those  sapphires  and  became  Buddha ;  that 
was  up  on  the  hill  where  is  Maha  Bodhi  Temple. 
The  sapphires  got  hole  because  one  is  to  hang  in  the 
temple,  one  hangs  on  a  sacred  elephant  that  guard 
the  temple,  and  one  round  the  Buddha's  neck." 

Baboo  Dass  lifted  his  glass,  his  heavy  ox  eyes 
peering  over  its  top  at  Swinton,  who  was  thinking 
of  Finnerty's  elephant  that  had  the  sapphire. 

Baboo  Dass  resumed:  "And  here,  kind  gentleman, 
is  the  hell  of  dilemma,  for  one  sapphire  is  Brahm, 
the  Creator;  one  Vishnu,  the  Preserver;  and  one 
Siva,  the  Destroyer.  So,  if  a  man  got  one  he  don't 
know  if  it  is  loadstone  for  good  fortune  or  it  brings 
him  to  damnation." 

"But,  baboo,"  Swinton  objected,  "those  are  Brah- 
man gods,  and  Buddhists  have  practically  no  gods." 

"Sar,  Buddhism  is  kind  of  revolted  Brahmanism, 
and  in  the  north  the  two  is  mixed." 

The  baboo  pointed  gingerly  at  the  sapphire  in  its 
platinum  case:  "That  is  the  Siva  stone,  I  believe. 
Maharajah  Darpore  is  sending  to  my  company  in 
Calcutta  by  special  agent  for  them  to  find  other  two 
stones  like  it.  See,  sahib,  he  is  foxy  old  boy.  We 
make  that  chain  and  casket — his  order.  That  spe- 
cial agent  disappeared  forever — he  is  vanish  the  next 
day;  the  workman  that  fitted  the  stone  in  the  case 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  49 

died  of  cholera;  some  devil  tried  to  steal  the  sap- 
phire ;  all  the  workmen  get  a  secret  it  is  evil  god  and 
they  strike.  The  manager,  Rombey  Sahib,  swear 
plenty  blasphemy  and  command  me:  'Baboo  Dass, 
you  are  brave  mans,  take  the  damn  thing  to  old  Dar- 
pore  and  tell  his  banker  I  must  have  rupees  twenty 
thousand;  they  owe  us  sixty  thousand.'  Rombey 
Sahib  knows  I  will  give  the  dewan  a  commission,  and 
the  old  thief  will  write  a  money  order." 

"What  did  the  maharajah  want  of  the  three  sap- 
phires?" Swinton  asked  innocently. 

Baboo  Dass  leaned  across  the  table,  and  in  a  gur- 
gling whisper  said:  "Because  of  this  foolish  belief 
that  he  would  rule  all  India.  The  Buddhists  would 
think  he  was  a  Buddha.  That  word  Rikaz  means, 
in  theologic  way,  that  in  the  man  possesses  the  three 
sapphires  is  buried  the  treasure  of  holy  knowledge." 

Swinton,  turning  his  head  at  a  faint  sound,  saw 
his  bearer  standing  in  the  back  doorway. 

"Did  master  call?"  the  servant  asked. 

"No.     Go!" 

Trembling  with  apprehension,  Baboo  Dass  slipped 
the  case  back  in  his  breast.  A  revulsion  of  bibulous 
despondency  took  possession  of  him;  he  slipped  a 
white  cotton  sock  from  one  of  the  feet  he  had  pulled 
from  their  shoes  in  his  exuberancy,  and  wiped  his 
eyes. 

"Baboo  Dass  is  right,"  Perreira  declared,  thrust- 
ing into  the  gap.  "On  the  hill  I  am  working  like 
mole  in  the  ground,  but  I  got  my  eyeteeth  looking 
when  I  am  in  the  light.  I  am  Britisher — Piccadilly 


5*  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Circus  is  home  for  me — if  I  work  for  native  prince 
I  don't  sell  my  mess  of  pottage." 

Perreira  tapped  the  breast  pocket  of  his  jaran 

coat.  "I  got  little  book  here "  The  half-caste 

gulped;  a  wave  of  sea  green  swept  over  his  face;  he 
gurgled  "Sick,"  and  made  a  reeling  dash  for  the  ve- 
randah. At  the  door,  he  recoiled  with  a  yell  of  ter- 
ror. The  baboo  dived  under  the  table. 

Thinking  it  was  the  tiger,  Swinton  grabbed  his 
rifle  and  sprang  to  the  door,  discovering  a  native 
standing  against  the  wall. 

"What  do  you  want?"  the  captain  asked  in  rapid 
English. 

"Sahib,  I  am  the  night  chowkidar  of  the  com- 
pound." 

"Sit  on  the  steps  there!"  Swinton  commanded. 

Back  at  the  table,  he  said:  "Baboo,  you  and  Per- 
reira go  back  to  your  bungalow  now  with  the  chow- 
kidar, but  I  warn  you  he  understands  English." 

Trembling,  Perreira  whispered:  "That  man  spy. 
Please  lending  me  rupees  two." 

Baboo  Dass  revived  to  encourage  the  deal,  saying: 
"Mr.  Perreira  is  honest  man;  I  endorse  for  him 
rupees  five  thousand." 

Suspecting  that  the  requested  loan  had  something 
to  do  with  the  eavesdropping  chowkidar,  Captain 
Swinton  went  to  his  room,  returning  with  the  silver, 
which  he  slipped  quietly  into  Perreira's  palm,  saying 
in  a  low  voice:  "Come  to  see  me  again."  He  stood 
watching  the  three  figures  pass  down  the  moonlit 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  51 

road,  and  saw  Perreira  touch  the  chowkidar;  then 
their  hands  met. 

Going  to  their  rooms,  Lord  Victor  said:  "Don't 
see  how  the  devil  you  had  the  patience,  captain.  Are 
you  really  going  to  do  a  book  and  were  mugging  up  ?" 

"I  may  get  something  out  of  it,"  the  captain  an- 
swered enigmatically. 


Chapter  III 

CAPTAIN  Swinton  had  told  his  bearer  to  call 
him  early,  his  life  in  India  having  taught  him 
the  full  value  of  the  glorious  early  morning  for 
a  ride.  Lord  Victor  had  balked  at  the  idea  of  a  grey- 
dawn  pleasure  trip  on  horseback,  and  Swinton  had 
not  pressed  the  point,  for  he  very  much  desired  to 
make  a  little  tour  of  inspection  off  his  own  bat,  a 
contemplative  ride  free  from  the  inane  comments  of 
his  young  charge. 

At  the  first  soft  drawn-out  "Sah-h-i-b!"  of  his 
bearer,  the  captain  was  up  with  soldierly  precision. 
His  eyes  lighted  with  pleasure  when  he  saw  the 
saddle  horse  that  had  been  provided  for  him  from 
the  maharajah's  stable.  He  was  a  fine,  upstanding 
brown  Arab,  the  eyes  full  and  set  wide.  When  Swin- 
ton patted  the  velvet  muzzle  the  Arab  gave  a  little 
sigh  of  satisfaction,  expressing  content;  he  liked  to 
carry  men  who  loved  horses. 

The  bearer,  officiously  solicitous,  had  rubbed  his 
cloth  over  the  saddle  and  bridle  reins,  and,  examin- 
ing the  result,  said:  "Huzoor,  you  have  clean  leath- 
ers; it  is  well.  Also  the  steed  has  lucky  marks  and 
his  name  is  Shabaz." 

Shabaz  broke  into  a  free-swinging  canter  as  the 
captain  took  the  road  that  stretched,  like  a  red  rib- 

52 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  53 

bon  laid  on  a  carpet  of  green,  toward  the  hill, 
whereon,  high  up,  gleamed  a  flat  pearl,  the  palace  of 
Prince  Ananda. 

On  the  hillside  was  a  delicate  tracery  of  waving 
bamboos,  through  which  peeped  cliffs  of  various  hues 
— rose-coloured,  ebon  black,  pearl  grey,  vermilion 
red;  and  over  all  was  a  purple  haze  where  the  golden 
shafts  of  the  rising  sun  shot  shrough  lazy-rising  va- 
pours of  the  moist  plain.  The  cliffs  resembled  castle 
walls  rising  from  the  buried  city,  mushrooming  them- 
selves into  sudden  arrogance.  To  the  north  a  river 
wound  its  sinuous  way  through  plains  of  sand,  a 
silver  serpent  creeping  over  a  cloth  of  gold.  Back 
from  either  side  of  the  river  lay  patches  of  wheat 
and  barley,  their  jade  green  and  golden  bronze  hold- 
ing of  grain  suggesting  gigantic  plates  of  metal  set 
out  in  the  morning  sun  to  dry. 

To  the  westward  of  the  river  lay  Darpore  City, 
looking  like  a  box  of  scattered  toys.  Beyond  the 
white  palace  the  sal-covered  hills  lay  heavy,  mys- 
terious, sombre,  as  if  in  rebuke  to  the  eastern  sky 
palpitating  with  the  radiancy  that  flooded  it  from 
the  great  golden  ball  of  heat  that  swept  upward  in 
regal  majesty. 

Yawning  caves  studding  a  ravine  which  cut  its 
climbing  way  up  the  hillside  shattered  the  poetic  spell 
which  had  driven  from  Swinton's  mind  his  real  ob- 
ject in  that  solitary  ride.  The  cave  mouths  sug- 
gested entrances  to  military  underground  passages. 
He  was  certain  that  the  pearllike  palace  was  a  place 
of  intrigue.  The  contour  of  the  great  hill  conveyed 


54  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

the  impression  of  a  stronghold — a  mighty  fort,  easy 
of  defence.  Indeed,  as  Swinton  knew,  that  was  what 
it  had  been.  Its  history,  the  story  of  Fort  Kargez, 
was  in  the  India  office,  and  Prince  Ananda  must  have 
lied  the  night  before  when  he  said  he  did  not  know 
what  city  lay  beneath  the  palace. 

Fort  Kargez  had  been  the  stronghold  of  Joghen- 
dra  Bahi,  a  Hindu  rajah,  when  the  Pathan  emperor, 
Sher  Ghaz,  had  swept  through  India  to  the  undulat- 
ing plains  of  Darpore. 

Gazing  at  the  formidable  hill,  Swinton  chuckled 
over  the  wily  Pathan's  manner  of  capturing  Fort 
Kargez  by  diplomacy.  He  had  made  friends  with 
Rajah  Bahi,  asking  the  favour  of  leaving  his  harem 
and  vast  store  of  jewels  in  that  gentleman's  safe  cus- 
tody till  his  return  from  conquering  Bengal. 

Such  a  bait  naturally  appealed  to  the  covetous 
Hindu.  But  the  palanquins  that  carried  the  fair 
maids  and  the  wealth  of  jewels  had  also  hidden  within 
jfenough  men  to  hold  the  gate  while  a  horde  of  Pathans 
rushed  the  fort.  But  Rajah  Bahi  and  many  of  his 
soldiers  had  escaped  to  the  underground  passages, 
and  either  by  accident  or  design — for  the  vaults  had 
been  mined — they  were  blown  up,  turning  the  fort 
over  like  a  pancake,  burying  the  Pathan  soldiers  and 
the  vast  loot  of  gold  and  jewels.  Then  the  jungle 
crept  in,  as  it  always  does,  and  smothered  the  jagged 
surface  beneath  which  lay  the  ruined  walls.  Many 
of  the  artificial  lakes  remained;  they  were  just  with- 
out the  fort. 

Climbing  the   zigzag  roadway,   Swinton   fell  to 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  55 

wondering  if  all  the  prince's  talk  of  a  desire  for  re- 
moval from  the  bustle  of  Darpore  City  was  simply 
a  blind;  if  his  real  object  weren't  a  systematic  ex- 
ploration for  the  vast  store  of  wealth  in  the  buried 
city  and  also  the  preparation  of  a  rebel  stronghold. 

On  the  plateau,  he  took  a  road  that  forked  to  the 
right,  leading  between  hedges  of  swordlike  aloes  to 
the  palace  gardens.  At  a  gateway  in  a  brick  wall, 
his  guide  dropped  to  his  haunches,  saying:  "There 
is  but  one  gate,  sahib;  I  will  wait  here." 

Turning  a  corner  of  an  oleander-bordered  path, 
Swinton  suddenly  pulled  Shabaz  to  a  halt.  Twenty 
yards  away  a  girl  sat  a  grey  stallion,  the  poise  of 
her  head  suggesting  that  she  had  heard  the  beat  of  his 
horse's  hoofs.  A  ripple  of  wind  carried  the  scent 
of  the  Arab  to  the  grey  stallion;  he  arched  his  taper- 
ing neck  and  swung  his  head,  the  eyes  gleaming  with 
a  desire  for  combat.  A  small  gloved  hand,  with  a 
quick  slip  of  the  rein,  laid  the  curb  chain  against 
his  jaw;  a  spur  raked  his  flank,  and,  springing  from 
its  touch,  he  disappeared  around  a  turn.  Piqued, 
his  query  of  the  night  before,  "Who  was  the 
woman?"  recalled  to  his  mind,  Swinton  followed 
the  large  hoofprints  of  the  grey.  They  led  to  within 
six  feet  of  the  garden  wall,  where  they  suddenly  van- 
ished; they  led  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left 
of  the  sweeping  path. 

"Good  old  land  of  mystery!"  the  captain  muttered 
as,  slipping  from  his  saddle,  he  read  out  the  enigma. 
Back,  the  greater  stride  told  that  the  grey  had  gone 
to  a  rushing  gallop.  Here,  six  feet  from  the  wall, 


56  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

he  had  taken  off  in  a  mighty  leap ;  two  holes  cupped 
from  the  roadbed  by  the  push  of  his  hind  feet  told 
this  tale.  Swinton  could  just  chin  the  wall — and  he 
was  a  tall  man.  On  the  far  side  was  a  fern-covered 
terrace  that  fell  away  three  feet  to  a  roadbed,  and 
just  beyond  the  road  the  rim  of  a  void  a  hundred 
feet  deep  showed. 

"No  end  of  nerve;  she  almost  deserves  to  preserve 
her  incognito,"  Captain  Swinton  thought,  remount- 
ing Shabaz. 

On  his  way  out  the  captain  passed  a  heavy  iron 
gate  that  connected  the  garden  with  the  palace.  And 
from  beyond  was  now  coming  a  babel  of  animal 
voices  from  the  zoo.  Mingling  with  the  soft  per- 
fume of  roses  a  strong  odour  of  cooking  curry  re- 
minded him  of  breakfast.  At  the  gate  he  picked 
up  his  man,  and,  riding  leisurely  along,  sought  to 
learn  from  that  wizened  old  Hindu  the  horsewom- 
an's name. 

There  came  a  keen  look  of  cautious  concealment 
into  the  man's  little  eyes  as  he  answered:  "Sahib,  the 
lady  I  know  not,  neither  is  it  of  profit  for  one  of 
my  labour  to  converse  about  fine  people,  but  as  to 
the  grey  stallion  we  in  the  stables  allude  to  him  as 
Sheitan." 

"He  jumps  well,  Radha." 

"Ha,  sahib;  all  that  he  does  is  performed  with 
strength,  even  when  he  tore  an  arm  out  of  Stoll 
Sahib — he  of  the  Indigo." 

"How  comes  the  lady  to  ride  such  an  evil  horse?" 
the  captain  asked. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  57 

"The  stallion's  name  is  Djalma,  sahib,  which 
means  the  favour  of  sacred  Kuda,  but  to  the  mem- 
sahib  he  comes  from  the  maharani's  stable,  which  is 
a  different  thing." 

"To  bring  her  harm,  even  as  Stoll  Sahib  came  by 
it?" 

But  Radha  parried  this  talk  of  cause  leading  to 
effect  by  speech  relating  to  Djalma.  "It  might  be 
that  the  matter  of  Stoll  Sahib's  hand  was  but  an  ac- 
cident— I  know  not;  but  of  evil  omens,  as  twisted 
in  the  hair  of  a  horse,  we  horsemen  of  repute  all 
know.  The  grey  stallion  carries  three  marks  of  ill 
favour.  Beneath  the  saddle  he  has  the  shadow 
maker,  and  that  means  gloom  for  his  owner;  at  the 
knee  is  a  curl,  with  the  tail  of  the  curl  running  down 
to  the  fetlock — that  means  the  withdrawal  of  the 
peg.  That  is  to  say,  sahib,  that  his  owner's  rope 
pegs  will  have  to  be  knocked  out  for  lack  of  horses 
to  tie  to  them." 

"He  seems  a  bad  lot,  Radha,"  Swinton  remarked 
as  the  attendant  stopped  to  pick  a  thorn  from  his 
foot. 

"Worst  of  all,"  the  little  man  added  dolefully, 
"is  the  wall  eye." 

"Has  the  grey  stallion  that?" 

A  smile  of  satisfaction  wreathed  the  puckered  lips 
of  Radha.  "The  sahib  knows,  and  does  the  sahib 
remember  the  proverb?" 

"That  not  one  will  be  left  alive  in  your  house  if 
you  possess  a  horse  with  one  white  eye?"  the  captain 
said. 


58  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

They  now  slipped  from  the  hill  road  to  the  plain, 
and  the  Arab  broke  into  a  swinging  canter. 

The  captain's  breakfast  was  waiting,  so  was  Gil- 
fain  and  also — which  caused  him  to  swear  as  he 
slipped  from  the  saddle — was  Baboo  Lall  Mohun 
Dass. 

In  the  genial  morning  sun  the  baboo  looked  more 
heroic  in  his  spotless  muslin  and  embroidered  velvet 
cap  sitting  jauntily  atop  his  heavy,  black,  well-oiled 
hair. 

"Wanting  to  speak  to  master,  sar,  this  morning," 
he  said.  "After  debauch,  in  the  morning  wisdom 
smiles  like  benign  god.  I  am  showing  to  master  last 
night  property  of  maharajah,  and  he  is  terrible  old 
boy  for  raising  hell ;  I  am  hear  the  sahib  will  make 
call  of  honour,  and,  sar,  I  am  beseeching  you  will 
not  confide  to  his  highness  them  peccadillos." 

"All  right,  baboo.  But  excuse  me;  I've  got  to 
have  a  tub  and  breakfast." 

When  Lord  Victor  and  Captain  Swinton  had  fin- 
ished their  breakfast  a  huge  barouche  of  archaic 
structure,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  gaunt  Waler  horses, 
arrived  to  take  them  to  the  maharajah.  On  the  box 
seat  were  two  liveried  coachmen,  while  behind  rode 
the  syces. 

As  they  rolled  along  the  red  road  through  the 
cantonments  they  overtook  Baboo  Mohun  Dass  plug- 
ging along  in  an  elephantine  strut  beneath  a  gaudy 
green  umbrella.  When  they  drew  abreast  he  sa- 
laamed and  said:  "Masters,  kind  gentlemen!"  The 
coachman  drew  the  horses  to  a  walk,  and  the  baboo, 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  59 

keeping  pace,  asked:  "Will  you,  kind  gentlemans,  if 
you  see  a  vehicle,  please  send  to  meet  me?  I  have 
commanded  that  one  be  sent  for  me,  but  a  hum- 
bugging fellow  betray  my  interest,  so  I  am  pedes- 
trian." His  big,  bovine  eyes  rested  hungrily  on  the 
capacious,  leather-cushioned  seat  alluringly  vacant 
in  the  chariot. 

"All  right,  baboo !"  Then  Swinton  raised  his  eyes 
to  the  coachman,  who  was  looking  over  his  shoulder, 
and  ordered:  "Hurry!" 

The  big-framed,  alien  horses,  always  tired  in  that 
climate,  were  whipped  up,  and  a  rising  cloud  of  dust 
hid  the  carriage  from  Baboo  Dass'  glaring  eyes. 

Indignation  drove  a  shower  of  perspiration 
through  the  baboo's  greasy  pores.  He  turned  to- 
ward the  sal-covered  hills,  and  in  loud  resentment 
appealed  to  Kali,  the  dispenser  of  cholera,  beseech- 
ing the  goddess  to  punish  the  sahibs. 

Baboo  Dass  was  startled  by  a  voice,  a  soft,  femi- 
nine voice,  that  issued  from  a  carriage  that  had  ap- 
proached unheard.  He  deserted  the  evil  goddess 
and  turned  to  the  woman  in  the  carriage.  She  was 
attractive;  many  gold  bangles  graced  her  slender 
arms;  on  her  fingers  were  rings  that  held  in  setting 
divers  stones,  even  diamonds.  A  large  mirror  ring 
indicated  that  she  was  coquettish,  and  yet  a  certain 
modesty  told  that  she  was  not  from  Amritsar  Ba- 
zaar. 

Her  voice  had  asked:  "What  illness  troubles  you, 
baboo?" 


60  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Now,  as  he  salaamed,  she  offered  him  a  ride  into 
Darpore  town. 

Baboo  Dass  climbed  into  the  vehicle,  expressing 
his  gratitude,  explaining,  as  they  bowled  along,  that 
he  was  a  man  of  affairs,  having  business  with  the 
maharajah  that  morning,  and  that  by  mischance  he 
had  been  forced  to  walk.  In  reciprocal  confidence  the 
lady  explained  she  was  the  wife  of  a  Marwari  banker. 

The  baboo's  resentment  welled  up  afresh;  also  a 
little  boasting  might  impress  his  pleasing  companion. 
"To  think,  lady,"  he  said,  "last  night  we  are  royster- 
ing  together,  those  two  sahibs,  who  are  lords,  and 
me,  who  am  a  man  of  importance  in  Hamilton  Com- 
pany, and  now  they  are  coming  in  the  maharajah's 
carriage  and  they  pass  me  as  if  I  am  some  low-caste 
fellow  in  their  own  country  that  works  with  his 
hands." 

"That  is  the  way  of  the  foreigners,"  the  Marwari 
woman  answered  softly;  "they  will  put  the  yoke  on 
your  neck  and  say  'Thank  you.'  On  their  lips  are 
the  words  of  friendship,  in  their  hand  is  the  knotted 
whip." 

"When  they  see  I  am  important  man  with  his 
highness  they  will  not  feel  so  elegant." 

"I  will  take  you  to  the  drawbridge  where  it  crosses 
the  moat  to  the  gate  in  the  big  wall,"  the  Marwari 
woman  offered. 

"It  is  undignified  for  a  man  of  my  importance  to 
approach  the  palace  on  foot,"  declared  Baboo  Dass. 

The  Marwari  woman  smiled,  her  stained  red  lips 
parting  mischievously.  "But  also,  Baboo  Dass,  it 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  61 

would  not  be  proper  for  you  to  arrive  with  me.  I 
have  a  way  to  arrange  it  that  will  save  both  our  good 
standing.  We  will  drive  to  my  place  of  banking, 
then  my  carriage  will  take  you  to  the  palace,  and  the 
sahibs  will  not  see  you  walk  in." 

The  baboo  was  delighted.  In  India  opulent  peo- 
ple did  not  call  on  rajahs  afoot;  also  the  carriage 
was  a  prosperous-looking  vehicle,  and  the  two  coun- 
try-bred horses  were  well  fed. 

As  they  neared  the  palace,  that  lay  hidden  behind 
massive  brick  walls,  they  left  the  main  thoroughfare, 
and,  after  divers  turnings,  entered  a  street  so  nar- 
row that  their  vehicle  passed  the  mud-walled  shops 
with  difficulty.  A  sharp  turn,  and  the  carnage 
stopped  in  a  little  court. 

Four  burly  natives  rose  up  from  the  mud  step  on 
which  they  had  been  sitting,  and,  at  a  word  from  the 
Marwari  woman,  seized  her  companion.  The  baboo 
struggled  and  sought  to  cry  out  for  help,  but  the 
lady's  soft  hand  deftly  twisted  a  handkerchief  into 
his  mouth,  hushing  his  clamour.  He  was  torn  from 
the  carriage  none  too  gently,  hustled  through  an 
open  door,  and  clapped  into  a  chair,  where  he  was 
firmly  held  by  his  four  attendants. 

A  little  old  man  seized  a  cup  wherein  was  a  piece 
of  soap,  and  with  his  brush  beat  up  a  lather,  saying 
softly:  "Do  not  struggle,  baboo;  it  is  for  your  good. 
These  fevers  burn  the  liver  and  affect  the  brain;  in 
no  time  I  will  have  taken  the  accursed  fever  from 
your  head." 

Then  with  a  scissors  he  nimbly  clipped  the  profuse 


6«  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

locks  of  the  baboo's  head,  the  latter,  having  managed 
to  spit  out  the  handkerchief,  protesting  that  it  was 
an  outrage,  that  he  was  a  jewel  merchant  from  Cal- 
cutta waiting  upon  the  rajah. 

"Yes,  yes,"  the  little  man  told  the  four  stalwarts 
as  he  whipped  at  the  lather,  "it  is  even  so ;  his  wife 
spoke  of  a  strange  fancy  he  was  possessed  of  that 
he  was  a  dealer  in  jewels,  whereas  he  is  but  a  clerk. 
And  no  wonder,  with  a  fever  in  the  blood  and  with 
a  crown  of  hair  such  as  a  mountain  sheep  wears." 

Then  he  lathered  the  scalp,  stroked  the  razor  on 
the  skin  of  his  forearm,  and  proceeded  to  scrape. 

The  baboo  yelled  and  struggled ;  the  razor  took  a 
nick  out  of  his  scalp.  At  last  the  blue-grey  poll, 
bearing  many  red  nicks,  was  clear  of  hair,  and  he 
was  released.  His  first  thought  was  of  the  jewel. 
His  searching  palm  fell  flat  against  his  chest;  it  was 
gone!  With  a  cry  of  despair  he  made  for  the  door; 
the  carriage  had  vanished. 

Whirling  about,  he  accused  his  captors  of  the 
theft.  The  barber,  to  soothe  the  fever-demented 
one,  said:  "Of  a  surety,  baboo,  your  wife  has  taken 
the  jewel  because  it  was  an  evil  stone  that  but  in- 
creased the  fever  that  was  in  your  blood." 

The  plot  dawned  upon  Baboo  Dass.  He  flung 
out  the  door  and  made  for  the  palace. 

"It  does  not  matter,"  the  barber  said;  "his  wife 
is  a  woman  of  business,  and  this  morning  when  she 
spoke  of  bringing  the  sick  man  she  paid  in  advance." 
He  put  in  the  palm  of  each  of  the  four  a  rupee,  add- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  63 

ing:  "The  afflicted  man  will  now  go  home  and  sleep, 
his  head  being  cooler,  and  the  fever  will  go  out  of 
his  blood,  for  so  the  doctor  told  his  wife,  who  is  a 
woman  of  method." 


Chapter  IV 

PRINCE  ANANDA  had  welcomed  Lord  Victor 
and  Captain  Swinton  on  a  wide,  black-marble 
verandah  from  which  two  marvellously  carved 
doors  gave  them  entrance  through  a  lordly  hall  to  a 
majestic  reception  chamber. 

"This  is  the  'Cavern  of  Lies,'  "  Ananda  said,  with 
a  smile,  "for  here  come  all  who  wish  to  do  up  the 
governor — and  he's  pliant.  That,  for  instance" — 
he  pointed  to  a  billowy  sea  of  glass  prisms  which 
hid  the  ceiling — countless  chandeliers  jostling  each 
other  like  huge  snowflakes. 

"No  end  of  an  idea,  I  call  it — fetching!"  Lord 
Victor  acclaimed. 

Prince  Ananda  laughed.  "The  governor  went 
into  a  big  china  shop  in  Calcutta  one  day  when 
Maharajah  Jobungha  was  there.  The  two  mahara- 
jahs  are  not  any  too  friendly,  I  may  say,  and  when 
the  governor  was  told  Jobungha  had  already  bought 
something  he  took  a  fancy  to,  he  pointed  to  the  other 
side  of  the  store,  which  happened  to  be  the  lot  of 
glass  junk  you  see  above,  and  told  the  shop  manager 
to  send  the  whole  thing  to  Darpore.  Ah,  here 
comes  the  maharajah!"  the  prince  added. 

At  the  far  end  of  the  reception  room  heavy  silk 
curtains  had  been  parted  by  a  gold-and-crimson  uni- 
formed servant,  who  announced  in  a  rich,  full  voice : 

64 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  65 

"His  highness,  the  Maharajah  of  Darpore !  Salaam, 
all  who  are  in  his  noble  presence  I" 

A  king  had  stepped  into  the  room;  a  reawakened, 
bronze-skinned  Roman  gladiator  was  coming  down 
the  centre  of  the  room,  his  head  thrown  up  like  some 
lordly  animal.  He  was  regal  in  the  splendour  of  his 
robes.  Above  the  massive  torso  of  the  king,  with  its 
velvet  jacket  buttoned  by  emeralds,  the  glossy  black 
beard,  luxuriantly  full,  as  fine  as  a  woman's  hair, 
was  drawn  up  over  the  ears,  its  Rembrandt  black 
throwing  into  relief  a  rose  tint  that  flushed  the  olive- 
skinned  cheek.  Deep  in  the  shadow  of  a  massive 
brow  were  brilliant,  fearless  eyes  that  softened  as 
they  fell  on  Ananda's  face.  In  the  gold-edged  head- 
dress a  clasp  of  gold  held  blue-white  diamonds  that 
gleamed  like  a  cascade  of  falling  water.  A  short 
sword  was  thrust  in  a  silk  sash,  its  ruby-studded  hilt 
glinting  like  red  wine. 

When  Prince  Ananda  presented  Swinton  and  Lord 
Gilfain,  the  latter  as  the  son  of  Earl  Craig,  the 
maharajah's  face  lighted  up;  he  held  out  his  hand 
impulsively  with  simple  dignity,  saying  in  Hindus- 
tani: "Sit  down,  sahibs.  The  young  lord's  father 
was  my  brother;  at  court  his  ear  heard  my  heart- 
beat." 

A  turmoil  of  vocal  strife  fell  upon  their  ears  from 
without.  The  baboo  had  arrived. 

"Oh,  murder!"  Swinton  groaned,  recognising  the 
Dass  voice  demanding  admittance. 

The  rabble  sound  was  coming  down  the  hall  as  in- 
effectually two  attendants  clung  to  the  ponderous 


66  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Bengali,  mad  with  his  affliction.  The  words:  "The 
maharajah's  jewel  is  stolen!"  caused  Prince  Ananda 
to  dart  to  the  door.  Seeing  him,  the  servants  re- 
leased their  grasp  of  Baboo  Dass,  and  the  prince, 
not  daring  to  leave  the  king's  presence,  allowed  the 
half-crazed  man  to  enter  the  room,  where  he  grov- 
eled before  the  maharajah,  bumping  his  forehead  to 
the  marble  floor  and  clawing  at  the  royal  feet. 

When,  at  the  king's  command,  the  baboo  rose, 
Lord  Victor  clapped  his  hand  over  his  mouth  to 
smother  his  mirth,  gasping:  "Oh,  my  aunt!  That 
head!" 

Like  the  rattle  of  a  machine  gun,  Baboo  Dass 
poured  out  his  tale  of  wo.  When  he  had  finished, 
the  maharajah  said  calmly:  "It  doesn't  matter,"  and 
with  a  graceful  sweep  of  his  hand  suggested  that 
Baboo  Dass  might  retire. 

Once  more  the  baboo's  voice  bubbled  forth. 

"Begone!"  And  the  handsome  face  of  the  maha- 
rajah took  on  a  tigerish  look.  For  a  second  it  was 
terrifying;  the  change  was  electric.  Baboo  Dass 
recoiled  and  fled. 

Then  the  maharajah's  voice  was  soft,  like  a  rich- 
toned  organ,  as  he  said  in  Hindustani:  "India  has 
two  afflictions — famine  and  the  Bengali." 

Beside  the  rajah  was  a  magnificently  carved  teak- 
wood  chair,  a  padlocked  gold  chain  across  the  arms 
indicating  that  it  was  not  to  be  used.  The  carving 
was  marvellous,  each  side  reperesenting  a  combat  be- 
tween a  tiger  and  a  huge  python,  the  graceful  curve 
of  whose  form  constituted  the  arm.  At  a  question  of 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  67 

interest  from  Gilfain,  Prince  Ananda  spoke  in  Urdu 
to  his  father.  The  latter  nodded,  and  Ananda,  cross- 
ing to  a  silver  cabinet,  unlocked  it  and  returned  bear- 
ing a  gold  casket,  upon  the  top  of  which  was  inset 
a  large  pearl.  Within  the  casket  was  a  half-smoked 
cigarette. 

As  if  carried  away  by  the  sight  of  this  the  mahara- 
jah,  speaking  in  Hindustani,  which  he  saw  Swinton 
understood,  said:  "That  cigarette  was  smoked  by 
the  Prince  of  Wales  sitting  in  this  chair  which  has 
since  been  locked.  He  shook  hands  with  me,  sahib; 
we  were  friends;  he,  the  son  of  the  empress,  and  I 
a  king,  who  was  also  a  son  to  the  empress." 

His  voice  had  grown  rich  and  soft  and  full;  the 
fierce,  black,  warlike  rajput  eyes  were  luminous  as 
though  tears  lay  behind.  The  maharajah  remained 
silent  while  Swinton  translated  this  to  Lord  Victor. 
"Ah,  sahibs,  if  kings  could  sit  down  together  and  ex- 
plain, there  would  not  be  war  nor  distrust  nor  op- 
pression. When  your  father" — he  turned  his  face 
toward  Gilfain — "was  a  councillor  in  Calcutta,  close 
to  the  viceroy,  I  had  honour;  when  I  crossed  the 
bridge  from  Howra  as  many  guns  would  speak  wel- 
come from  Fort  William  as  did  for  Maharajah 
Jobungha.  But  now  I  go  no  more  to  Calcutta." 

If  Swinton  had  been  troubled  in  his  analysis  of  the 
prince's  motives  and  character,  he  now  swam  in  a  sea 
of  similar  tribulation.  The  maharajah  was  big.  Was 
he  capable  of  gigantic  subtlety,  such  as  his  words 
Would  veil?  He  could  see  that  Prince  Ananda  was 
abstracted;  his  face  had  lost  its  jaunty,  debonair 


68  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

look;  worry  lines  mapped  its  surface.  The  loss  of 
the  sapphire  had  hit  Ananda  hard,  but  if  the  rob- 
bery had  affected  the  king,  he  was  subtle  in  a  remark- 
able sense,  for  he  gave  no  sign. 

The  maharajah  now  rose,  clapped  his  hands,  and 
when  a  servant  appeared  gave  a  rapid  order.  The 
servant  disappeared,  and  almost  immediately  re- 
turned with  a  silver  srlver  upon  which  were  two  long 
gold  chains  of  delicate  workmanship  and  an  open 
bottle  of  attar  of  rose.  The  maharajah  placed  a 
chain  about  the  neck  of  each  sahib,  and  sprinkled 
them  with  the  attar,  saying,  with  a  trace  of  a  smile 
curving  his  handsome  lips:  "Sometimes,  sahibs,  this 
ceremony  is  just  etiquette,  but  to-day  my  heart  pains 
with  pleasure  because  the  son  of  my  friend  is  here." 
He  held  out  his  hand,  adding:  "Prince  Ananda  must 
see  that  you  have  the  best  our  land  affords." 


Chapter  V 

SWINTON  was  glad  when  he  saw  his  dogcart 
turn  into  the  compound  to  take  him  to  the  ked- 
dah  sahib's  for  tiffin.  Lord  Victor  had  been 
hypnotised  by  the  splendour  of  Maharajah  Darpore; 
he  went  around  the  bungalow  giving  vent  to  ebulli- 
tions of  praise.  "My  aunt,  but  the  old  Johnnie  is  a 
corker!  And  all  the  tommyrot  one  hears  at  home 
about  another  mutiny  brewing!  Damn  it,  Swinton, 
the  war  chiefs  who  want  every  bally  Englishman 
trained  to  carry  a  gun  like  a  Prussian  ought  to  be  put 
in  the  Tower!" 

An  hour  of  this  sort  of  thing,  and  with  a  silent 
whoop  of  joy  the  captain  clambered  into  his  dogcart 
and  sped  away,  as  he  bowled  along  his  mind  trou- 
bled by  the  maharajah  angle  of  the  espionage  game. 

After  tiffin  with  the  major,  and  out  on  the  ve- 
randah, where  they  were  clear  of  the  servant's  ears, 
Swinton  asked:  "Who  is  the  mysterious  lady  that 
rides  a  grey  Persian?" 

He  was  conscious  of  a  quick  turn  of  Finnerty's 
head ;  a  half-checked  movement  of  the  hand  that  held 
a  lighted  match  to  a  cheroot,  and  as  the  keddah  sahib 
proceeded  to  finish  the  ignition  he  described  the 
woman  and  her  flight  over  the  brick  wall. 

"She's  Doctor  Boelke's  niece;  she  has  been  here 

69 


70  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

about  a  month,"  Finnerty  answered,  when  Captain 
Swinton  had  finished. 

"I  wonder  why  she  risked  her  neck  to  avoid  me, 
major?" 

"Well,  she's  German  for  one  thing,  and  I  suppose 
she  knows  there's  a  growing  tension  between  the  two 
peoples." 

Captain  Swinton  allowed  a  smile  to  surprise  his 
always  set  face.  "Do  you  know  why  I  am  here, 
major;  that  is,  have  you  had  advice?" 

"Yes,"  the  major  answered. 

"Very  good,"  Captain  Swinton  declared.  "I'll 
give  you  some  data.  Lord  Victor's  father,  Earl 
Craig,  is  under-secretary  to  India.  There  was  some 
extraordinary  jumble  of  a  state  document  intended 
for  the  Viceroy  of  India.  Whether  its  misleading 
phraseology  was  carelessness  or  traitorous  work  on 
the  part  of  a  clerk,  nobody  knows,  but  it  read  that 
the  sircar  was  to  practically  conscript  Indians — Mus- 
sulman and  Hindu  alike — to  fight  against  the  Turks 
and  Germans  in  the  war  that  we  all  feel  is  about  to 
come.  This  paper  bore  the  official  seal;  had  even 
been  signed.  Then  Earl  Craig's  copy  of  it  disap- 
peared— was  stolen  from  Lord  Victor,  who  was 
acting  as  his  secretary.  A  girl,  with  whom  the  young 
man  was  infatuated,  was  supposed  to  have  taken  it 
for  the  Prussians  for  use  in  India.  The  girl  disap- 
peared, and  Lord  Victor  was  sent  out  here  for  fear 
he  would  get  in  communication  with  her  again. 
Neither  Lord  Victor  nor  the  earl  knows  I  am  a  se- 
cret-service man.  Maharajah  Darpore  is  marked 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  71 

'low  visibility'  in  the  viceroy's  book  of  rajah  rating, 
and,  as  Earl  Craig  wanted  an  Anglo-Indian  as  a 
companion  to  his  son,  this  seemed  a  good  chance  to 
investigate  quietly.  There's  another  little  matter," 
the  captain  continued  quietly  as  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  sapphire  in  the  rough. 

"Where  the  devil  did  you  get  that,  captain?  I 
thought  that  old  professor  pirate  had  stolen  it,"  Fin- 
nerty  gasped. 

"That's  not  the  stone  you  lost  last  night,  major." 

Finnerty  looked  at  Swinton  incredulously  as  the 
latter  handed  him  the  sapphire,  for  it  was  exactly 
like  the  stolen  stone,  even  to  the  inscription. 

"Let  me  explain,"  Captain  Swinton  said.  "Some 
time  since  one  Akka,  a  hillman,  came  down  out  of 
Kululand  into  Simla  leading  a  donkey  that  carried 
two  bags  of  sapphires  in  the  rough.  Nobody  knew 
what  they  were,  so,  of  course,  he  found  it  hard  to 
sell  his  blue  stones.  That  night  the  stones  disap- 
peared, and  Akka  was  found  in  the  morning  at  the 
bottom  of  an  abyss  with  a  jade-handled  knife  sticking 
in  his  back.  He  must  have  dropped  over  the  rocks 
so  quickly  the  killer  hadn't  time  to  withdraw  his 
knife.  About  Akka's  neck,  hidden  under  his  dirty 
felt  coat,  was  hung  this  sapphire,  and  it  was  given 
to  me,  as  I  was  put  on  the  case.  I  took  a  trip  up 
into  Kululand  with  a  hillman  who  claimed  to  have 
come  in  with  Akka  as  guide.  I  got  a  very  fine  bharal 
head — almost  a  record  pair  of  horns — and  a  bullet 
in  my  left  leg  that  still  gives  me  a  limp  at  times,  but 


72  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

as  to  sapphires  in  the  rough  I  never  saw  another 
until  last  night." 

Finnerty  laughed.  "India  is  one  devil  of  a  place 
for  mystery." 

Swinton  related  the  incidents  of  the  night  before, 
and  Baboo  Dass'  story  of  the  three  sapphires,  add- 
ing: "Of  course  that's  Hindu  mythology  up  to  date, 
the  attributing  of  miraculous  powers  of  good  and 
evil  to  those  blue  stones." 

Finnerty  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair;  then,  with 
a  little,  apologetic  smile,  said:  "I'm  getting  less  dog- 
matic about  beliefs  and  their  trimmings — absolute 
superstition,  I  suppose — and  if  a  sapphire,  or  any- 
thing else,  were  associated  in  my  mind  with  disaster 
I'd  chuck  the  devilish  thing  in  the  river." 

"At  any  rate,  major,  the  main  thing,  so  far  as  my 
mission  is  concerned,  is  that  if  Prince  Ananda  hap- 
pens to  get  possession  of  the  three  sapphires  every 
Buddhist — which  means  all  the  fighting  Nepalese — 
will  believe  the  expected  Buddha  has  arrived." 

"By  gad  I  And  the  three  sapphires  are  in  Dar- 
pore — the  one  that  was  stolen  from  me  last  night, 
the  one  stolen  from  Baboo  Dass,  and  this  one." 

"Prince  Ananda  has  yours;  I  saw  Boelke  pur- 
posely tip  over  that  table.  But  who  stole  the  one 
from  the  baboo  I  don't  know;  it  couldn't  have  been 
a  raj  agent,  for  it  belonged  to  the  maharajah." 

"Where  did  they  come  from?"  Finnerty  queried. 

"Yours,  of  course,  was  on  Burra  Moti's  neck,  and 
she  must  have  been  attached  to  some  temple;  Akka 
probably  murdered  some  lama  who  had  this  one 


53 

• 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  73 

about  his  neck;  where  Prince  Ananda  got  the  third 
one  I  don't  know." 

"By  Jove!"  Finnerty  ejaculated.  "It  was  a  hill- 
man  that  Moti  put  her  foot  on.  He  had  been  sent 
to  steal  that  bell,  as  he  couldn't  carry  the  elephant." 

"Here's  another  thing,"  Captain  Swinton  said. 
"In  the  United  States  there  has  been  arrested  a  clique 
of  Hindus  who  have  sold  a  great  quantity  of  rare  old 
jewels,  gold  ornaments,  and  sapphires  in  the  rough. 
Machine  guns  and  ammunition  were  bought  with  the 
money  obtained,  and  quite  a  consignment  is  some- 
where on  the  road  now  between  China  and  India." 

"Great  Scott  I  Up  this  way — to  come  in  through 
Nepal?" 

"The  stuff  was  shipped  from  San  Francisco  to 
Hongkong,  and  though  the  British  government  had 
every  road  leading  out  of  that  city  watched,  they 
never  got  track  of  it.  Our  men  there  think  it  was 
transshipped  in  Hongkong  harbour  and  is  being 
brought  around  to  India  by  water." 

"Does  the  government  think  the  maharajah  is 
mixed  up  in  this?" 

"I'm  here  to  find  out.  He  mystified  me  to-day. 
Gilfain  thinks  he's  magnificent — as  natural  as  a  child. 
But  he's  too  big  for  me  to  judge;  I  can't  docket  him 
like  I  can  Ananda.  He  was  as  regally  disinterested 
over  the  disappearance  of  that  sapphire  as  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  was  when  his  famous  string  of  black 
pearls  broke  and  scattered  over  the  floor  at  the  Tuile- 
ri^s;  but  the  prince  was  seething." 

Finnerty  waved  his  cheroot  in  the  direction  of  the 


74  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

palace  hill.  "The  trouble  is  up  there.  Ananda  is 
wily;  he's  like  a  moon  bear  he  has  there  in  a  cage 
that  smiles  and  invites  you  to  tickle  the  back  of  his 
neck;  then,  before  you  know  it,  the  first  joint  of  a 
finger  is  gone." 

A  little  lull  in  the  talk  between  Swinton  and  Fin- 
nerty  was  broken  by  a  turmoil  that  wound  its  vol- 
canic force  around  the  bungalow  from  the  stables. 
Finnerty  sprang  to  his  feet  as  a  pair  of  Rampore 
hounds  reached  the  drive,  galloping  toward  a  tali 
native  at  whose  heels  came  a  big  hunting  dog. 

"Faith,  I  was  just  in  time,"  Finnerty  said  as  he 
led  the  two  hounds  to  the  verandah,  a  finger  under 
each  collar;  "they'd  soon  have  chewed  up  that  Ban- 
jara's  dog." 

The  Rampores  were  very  like  an  English  grey- 
hound that  had  been  shaved;  they  were  perhaps 
coarser,  a  little  heavier  in  the  jaw.  A  panting  keeper 
now  appeared,  and  the  dogs  were  leashed. 

Seeing  this,  the  native  approached,  and  in  a  deep, 
sombre  voice  said :  "Salaam,  Sahib  Bahadur  1"  Hav- 
ing announced  himself,  the  Banjara  came  up  the  steps 
and  squatted  on  his  heels ;  the  long  male-bamboo  staff 
he  carried  betokened  he  was  a  herdsman. 

"What  do  you  want,  Lumbani  ?"  Finnerty  queried. 

"Yes,  sahib,  I  am  a  Banjara  of  the  Lumbani  caste. 
The  sahib  who  is  so  strong  is  also  wise  in  the  ways 
of  my  people." 

"I  wonder  what  this  will  cost  me  in  wasted  time,'* 
the  major  lamented  in  English.  "I  judge  his  soul  is 
weighted  with  matters  of  deep  import."  Then,  in 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  75 

Hindustani:  "That's  a  true  Banjara  dog,  Lumbani." 

"Yes,  sahib,  he  is  one  of  that  great  breed.  Also 
in  the  sahib's  hands  are  two  thoroughbred  Rampores; 
they  be  true  dogs  of  the  Tazi  breed,  the  breed  that 
came  from  Tazi  who  slept  by  the  bedside  of  Nawab 
Faiz  Mahomed  five  generations  since.  The  sahib 
must  be  in  high  favour  with  the  Nawab  of  Rampore, 
for  such  dogs  are  only  given  in  esteem;  they  are  not 
got  as  one  buys  bullocks." 

"What  is  it  you  want?"  queried  Finnerty. 

The  Banjara  looked  at  Swinton;  he  coughed;  then 
he  loosened  the  loin  cloth  that  pinched  at  his  lean 
stomach. 

"This  dog,  sahib — Banda  is  the  noble  creature's 
name — has  the  yellow  eyes  that  Krishna  is  pleased 
with;  that  is  a  true  sign  of  a  Banjara."  He  held  out 
his  hand,  and  Banda  came  up  the  steps  to  crouch  at 
his  side. 

At  this  intrusion  of  the  native's  dog,  the  patrician 
Rampores  sprang  the  full  length  of  their  leash  with 
all  the  ferocity  that  is  inherent  in  this  breed.  A 
pariah  dog  would  have  slunk  away  in  affright,  but  the 
Banjara's  yellow  eyes  gleamed  with  fighting  defiance; 
he  rose  on  his  powerful,  straight  legs,  and  his  long 
fangs  shone  between  curled  lips. 

"Good  stuff!"  Finnerty  commented,  and  to  his 
groom  added:  "Take  the  hounds  away.  He's  a  sure- 
enough  Banjara,  Swinton,"  he  resumed  in  English. 
"Look  at  that  terrier  cast  in  the  face,  as  though  there 
were  a  streak  of  Irish  or  Airedale  in  him." 

Indeed,  the  dog  was  a  beauty,  with  his  piercing 


76  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

bright  eyes  set  in  the  long,  flat  head  that  carried 
punishing  jaws  studded  with  strong  teeth.  The  neck 
was  long,  rising  from  flat,  sloping  shoulders,  backed 
up  by  well-rounded  ribs  and  arched  loins  leading  to 
well-developed  quarters.  The  chest  was  narrow  and 
deep,  and  the  flanks  tucked  up. 

"They're  game,  too,"  Finnerty  declared.  He 
turned  to  the  owner.  "Will  Banda  tackle  a  pan- 
ther?" 

"He  and  his  sons  have  been  in  at  the  death  of 
more  than  one;  they  will  follow  a  leopard  into  a 
cave." 

"How  much  will  you  take  for  him?"  Swinton 
asked. 

The  native  looked  his  scorn.  He  turned  to  Fin- 
nerty as  though  his  sarcasm  might  be  wasted  upon 
this  sahib  who  thought  a  Banjara  would  sell  one  of 
the  famous  breed.  "Perhaps  the  strange  sahib  will 
go  to  Umar  Khan,  at  Shahpur,  and  buy  one  of  the 
Salt  Range  horses — a  mare  of  the  Unmool  breed. 
When  he  has  I  will  sell  him  Banda." 

Swinton  laughed,  and,  taking  a  rupee  from  his 
pocket,  passed  it  to  the  native,  saying:  "Food  for 
Banda.  The  sarcasm  was  worth  it,"  he  added  in 
English,  "an  Unmool  mare  being  above  price." 

"All  this  talk  of  the  dogs,"  Finnerty  declared,  "is 
that  our  friend  has  something  on  his  mind.  He  was 
studying  you,  but  you've  broken  the  ice  with  your 
silver  hammer." 

The  native  salaamed,  tucked  the  rupee  in  his  loin 
cloth,  and  the  questioning,  furtive  look  that  had  been 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  77 

in  his  eyes  disappeared.     He  turned  to  the  major: 

"Huzoor,  I  am  a  man  of  many  buffaloes,  robbing 
none,  going  in  peace  with  my  herds  up  into  the  hills 
in  the  hot  weather  when  the  new  grass  comes  green 
and  strong  from  the  ashes  of  the  fire  that  has  been 
set  out  in  the  spring,  and  coming  back  to  the  plains 
when  the  weather  is  cold." 

"Where  is  your  country?"  Finnerty  queried. 

"Where  my  grain  bags  and  my  cooking  pots  are 
is  my  country,  my  fathers  holding  that  all  lands  were 
theirs  to  travel  in.  For  fifteen  years  in  this  moon 
have  I  remained  down  yonder  by  the  river  with  my 
herd,  just  where  the  heavy  kagar  grass  makes  good 
hunting  for  tiger,  and  always  on  good  terms  of 
friendship  with  him." 

"Gad !  I  thought  so,"  Finnerty  ejaculated.  "We'll 
get  news  of  a  kill  in  a  minute." 

"If  we  met  in  the  path — that  is,  your  slave  and 
tiger — I  would  say :  'Khudawand,  pass  here,  for  the 
thorns  in  the  bush  are  bad  for  thy  feet,'  and  if  tiger 
was  inclined  he  would  pass,  or  he  would  turn.  Often 
lying  on  the  broad  back  of  a  buffalo  as  we  crossed 
where  the  muck  is  deep  I  would  see  tiger  lying  in 
wait  for  pig  or  chinkara,  and  I  would  call,  'Kudo- 
wand,  good  hunting!'  Then  what  think  you,  sahib, 
if  after  years  of  such  living  in  peace,  this  depraved 
outcast,  begotten  of  a  hyena,  makes  the  kill  of  a 
cow?" 

"A  tiger,  like  a  woman,  is  to  be  watched,"  Fin- 
nerty declared,  quoting  a  tribal  adage. 

"And  all  in  the  way  of  evil  temper,  sahib,  for  the 


78  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

cow  lies  yonder  with  no  mark  beyond  a  broken  neck, 
while  in  the  jungles  rajah  tiger  is  growling  abuse. 
A  young  cow,  sahib,  in  full  milk.  For  the  sake  of 
God,  sahib,  come  and  slay  the  brute." 

The  Banjara  had  worked  himself  into  a  passion; 
tears  of  rage  stood  in  his  eyes.  "And -to  think  that 
I  had  saved  the  life  of  this  depraved  one,"  he  wailed. 

"You  saved  the  tiger's  life,  Lumbani?" 

"Surely,  sahib.  Of  the  Banjaras  some  are  Mus- 
sulmans— outcasts  that  lot  are — and  some  are  Hin- 
dus, as  is  your  servant,  so  we  are  careful  in  the  mat- 
ter of  a  kill,  lest  we  slay  one  of  our  own  people 
who  has  returned.  This  slayer  of  my  cow  always 
took  pleasure  in  being  near  the  buffalo.  Why, 
huzoor,  I  have  seen  him  up  in  the  hills  looking  as 
though  he  had  felt  lonesome  without  the  herd.  Not- 
ing that,  it  was  in  my  mind  that  perhaps  a  Banjara 
herdsman  had  been  born  again  as  a  tiger.  That  is 
why  I  saved  his  life  from  the  red  dogs  of  the  jun- 
gle; nothing  can  stand  before  them  when  they  are 
many.  From  the  back  of  a  buffalo  I  saw  one  of  these 
jungle  devils  standing  on  high  ground,  beckoning, 
with  his  tail  stuck  up  like  a  flag,  to  others  of  his 
kind." 

"I've  seen  that  trick,"  Finnerty  commented. 

"The  tiger  had  been  caught  in  a  snare  of  the  Naga 
people  as  he  came  to  partake  of  a  goat  they  had  tied 
up,  as  he  thought,  for  his  eating;  the  sahib  knows 
of  what  like  a  snare  is  to  retain  a  tiger.  A  strong- 
growing  bamboo,  young  and  with  great  spring,  had 
been  bent  down  and  held  by  a  trip  so  that  tiger,  put- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  79 

ting  his  paw  in  the  noose,  it  sprang  up,  and  there  he 
was  dancing  around  like  a  Nautch  girl  on  the  rope 
that  held  his  wrist,  being  a  loose  bamboo  too  big  for 
a  grip  of  his  teeth ;  it  spun  around  on  the  rope.  The 
red  dogs,  hearing  his  roars,  knew  he  was  trapped, 
and  were  gathering  to  settle  an  old  dispute  as  to  the 
eating  of  a  kill.  They  would  have  made  an  end  of 
him.  A  mongoose  kills  a  cobra  because  he  is  too 
quick  for  the  snake,  and  they  were  too  quick  for  the 
tiger;  so,  taking  pity  upon  him  as  an  old  friend,  with 
my  staff  I  drove  them  off;  then,  climbing  into  the 
bamboos,  cut  the  rope." 

"Did  you  tackle  them  alone,  Lumbani?" 

"Surely,  sahib;  jungle  dogs  run  from  a  man  that 
is  not  afraid." 

Finnerty's  shikarri,  Mahadua  the  Ahnd,  who  had 
come  to  the  verandah,  now  said:  "The  tiger  this 
herder  of  buffalo  tells  of  is  'Pundit  Bagh;'  he  is  well 
known  to  all." 

"And  you  never  brought  word  that  we  might  make 
the  hunt,"  Finnerty  reproached. 

"Sahib,  we  Ahnd  people  when  we  know  a  tiger 
is  possessed  of  a  spirit  do  not  seek  to  destroy  that 
one." 

"Why  is  he  called  Pundit?  Is  he  the  ghost  of  a 
teacher?" 

"This  is  the  story  of  Pundit  Bagh,  sahib:  Long 
ago  there  was  a  pundit  that  had  a  drug  that  would 
change  him  into  an  animal,  and  if  he  took  another 
it  would  change  him  back  again." 


80  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

The  Ahnd's  little  bead  eyes  watched  his  master's 
face  furtively. 

"One  day  as  the  pundit  and  his  wife  were  walking 
through  the  jungle  a  leopard  stepped  out  in  the  path 
to  destroy  them.  He  gave  his  wife  one  powder  to 
hold,  saying:  'I  will  take  this  one  and  change  into  a 
tiger,  and  when  I  have  frightened  the  leopard  away 
give  me  the  other  that  I  may  change  back  to  myself.' 
But  the  poor  woman  when  she  saw  her  tiger  hus- 
band spring  on  the  leopard  dropped  the  powder  and 
ran  away;  so  the  pundit  has  remained  a  tiger,  and  is 
so  cunning  that  it  will  be  small  use  to  make  the  hunt." 

"But  coming  and  going  as  he  must,  Mahadua,  how 
know  you  it  is  the  same  one?" 

"By  the  spectacles  of  the  pundit,  sahib;  there  is 
but  one  tiger  that  wears  them." 

Finnerty  laughed.  "Does  he  never  drop  them, 
little  man?" 

"Sahib,  they  are  but  black  rings  around  his  eyes 
— such  as  are  on  the  back  of  a  cobra's  head — like 
unto  the  horn  glasses  the  pundit  wore." 

"Baboo  Dass  declared  the  tiger  that  peeped  in  his 
window  wore  spectacles ;  it  must  have  been  this  same 
legendary  chap,"  Swinton  remarked. 

An  old  man  came  running  up  the  road,  between  its 
walls  of  pipal  trees,  beating  his  mouth  with  the  palm 
of  his  hand  in  a  staccato  lament.  At  the  verandah 
he  fell  to  his  knees  and  clasped  Finnerty's  feet,  cry- 
ing: "Oh,  sahib,  Ramia  has  been  mauled  by  a  tiger 
the  size  of  an  elephant,  and  from  the  fields  all  have 
run  away.  Come,  sahib,  and  slay  him." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  81 

"Pundit  Bagh  keeps  busy,"  the  major  said;  "but 
by  the  time  we  make  all  our  arrangements  it  will  be 
near  evening,  and  if  we  wound  him  we  can't  follow 
up  in  the  dark.  Go  back  and  keep  watch  on  the  tiger; 
to-morrow  we  will  make  the  hunt,"  he  told  the  old 
man. 

To  the  Hindu  to-morrow  meant  never;  when  peo- 
ple did  not  mean  to  do  things  they  said  "to-morrow." 
Perhaps  the  sahib  was  afraid;  perhaps  he  had  pre- 
sented the  tiger  in  too  fearful  a  light,  so  he  hedged. 
"Come,  protector  of  the  poor,  come  even  now,  for 
we  are  afraid  to  go  into  the  grass  for  Ramia.  The 
tiger  is  not  big — he  is  old  and  lame;  one  ball  from 
the  sahib's  gun  will  kill  him.  Indeed,  sahib,  he  is  an 
old  tiger  without  teeth." 

Finnerty  laughed;  but  the  Banjara  flamed  into 
wrath  at  this  trifling.  "Son  of  filth !  Skinner  of  dead 
cattle!  Think'st  thou  the  sahib  is  afraid?  And  did 
an  old,  toothless  tiger  kill  a  buffalo  of  mine?  Be- 
gone !  When  the  sahib  goes  to  the  hunt,  he  goes." 

The  Ahnd  now  said:  "Have  patience,  man  of  buf- 
faloes; perhaps  another,  a  leopard,  is  the  guilty  one. 
Pundit  Bagh  .acts  not  thus;  in  fact,  in  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Picklapara,  which  he  guards,  more  than  once 
when  the  villagers  have  made  offering  to  him  of  a 
goat  has  he  driven  away  a  leopard  that  had  carried 
off  an  old  woman  or  a  child." 

"Fool!  Does  a  leopard  break  the  neck  of  a  bul- 
lock? Does  he  not  slit  the  throat  for  the  blood? 
And  always  does  not  a  leopard  first  tear  open  the 
stomach  and  eat  the  heart  and  the  liver?  I  say  it 


8*  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

was  the  tiger,"  and  the  Banjara  glared  at  Mahadua. 

"It  was  a  small,  old  tiger,"  the  Hindu  declared, 
again. 

"Seems  a  bit  of  luck;  evidently  'Stripes'  is  inviting 
trouble,"  Swinton  observed. 

"You'll  want  Lord  Victor  to  have  a  chance  at  this 
first  tiger,  I  suppose,  captain?" 

"If  not  too  much  trouble." 

"I  fancy  our  best  way  will  be  to  make  the  hunt 
from  elephants,"  Finnerty  said  musingly.  "We  can 
beat  him  out  of  the  grass."  He  spoke  to  the  old 
Hindu  sternly:  "Tell  me  the  truth.  Is  Ramia  still 
with  the  tiger?" 

The  Hindu  blinked  his  eyes  in  fear.  "It  may  be, 
huzoor,  that  he  ran  away  to  his  home,  but  there  is  a 
big  cut  in  his  shoulder  where  the  beast  smote  him." 

"Sahib,"  the  Banjara  advised,  "if  the  Presence 
will  go  on  foot,  even  as  he  does  many  times,  I  will 
go  with  him,  carrying  the  spare  gun ;  the  tiger  knows 
me  well  and  will  wait  till  we  are  able  to  pull  his  whis- 
kers." 

"These  Banjaras  haven't  a  bit  of  fear,"  Finnerty 
commented.  "Is  it  good  ground  for  elephants?"  he 
asked. 

The  Banjara's  face  clouded.  "Sahib,  the  elephants 
make  much  noise.  Perhaps  the  tiger  will  escape ;  per- 
haps if  he  comes  out  in  an  evil  way  of  mind  the  ele- 
phant will  run  away." 

"Well,  Swinton,  if  you'll  ride  back  and  get  Gil- 
fain — what  guns  have  you?" 

"I've  a  Certus  Cordite  and  my  old  .450  Express." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  83 

"Good  as  any.     Soft-nosed  bullets?" 

"Yes,  I  have  some." 

"Well,  use  them;  we'll  be  pretty  close,  and  you'll 
want  a  stopping  bullet  if  the  old  chap  charges. 
What's  Gilfain  got?" 

"A  battery — a  little  of  everything,  from  a  .22 
Mannlicher  up  to  a  double-barrel,  ten-bore  Paradox." 

"Tell  him  to  bring  the  Paradox — it  won't  take  as 
much  sighting  as  the  rifle;  Gilfain  has  probably  done 
considerable  grouse  shooting.  He's  almost  sure  to 
miss  his  first  tiger;  nerves  go  to  pieces  generally. 
I'll  get  two  elephants — you  and  Lord  Victor  in  one 
howdah,  and  I'll  take  Mahadua  in  the  other." 

"If  you've  got  a  bullet-proof  howdah  I'd  use  it, 
major;  I've  seen  that  young  man  do  some  bally  fool 
things." 

"I  wish  I  could  take  Burra  Moti,"  Finnerty  said 
regretfully;  "she's  a  good  hunting  elephant,  but  with- 
out her  bell  I  couldn't  depend  on  her." 

"Use  the  stone  I've  got  for  a  clapper." 

"No,  thanks." 

"Why  not?  It  will  be  under  your  eye  all  the  time. 
You  can  take  it  off  at  night  and  put  it  in  your  box. 
Besides,  nobody  will  suspect  that  there's  another  sap- 
phire in  the  bell." 

"I  won't  have  time  to  have  a  goldsmith  beat  the 
bell  into  shape  to-day." 


Chapter  VI 

SWINTON  drove  back  to  get  Lord  Victor. 
When  his  two  elephants  were  ready,  Finnerty, 
with  the  Banjara  marching  at  his  side,  took  the 
road  that,  halfway  to  Darpore  City,  forked  off  into 
a  wide  stretch  of  dusty  plain  that  was  cut  here  and 
there  by  small  streams  and  backwaters;  these  latter 
places  growing  a  heavy  rush  grass  that  made  good 
cover  for  both  the  tiger  and  his  prey — swamp  deer 
and  pig. 

Swinton  and  Lord  Victor  were  at  the  fork  in  the 
road,  the  latter  attired  in  a  wondrous  Bond  Street 
outfit.  "Awfully  good  of  you,  old  chap,"  he  bub- 
bled. "Devilish  quick  work,  I  call  it;  I'll  feel  like 
cabling  the  governor  in  the  morning  if  I  bag  that 
man-killer." 

"If  I  had  Burra  Moti  under  me,  I'd  think  that  we 
as  good  as  had  the  tiger  padded,"  the  major  de- 
clared ;  "but  I  don't  know  anything  about  my  mount 
to-day.  I  don't  know  whether  he'll  stand  a  charge 
or  bolt.  Keep  your  feet  under  those  iron  straps; 
they're  the  stirrups,  Lord  Victor." 

"Right-o." 

They  went  down  off  the  hill,  with  its  big  rhodo- 
dendron trees,  and  out  onto  the  wide  plain,  directed 
by  the  Banjara.  In  an  hour  they  came  to  a  small 
stream  fringed  by  green  rushes ;  along  this  for  half 

84 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  85 

a  mile,  and  the  Banjara  pointed  with  his  bamboo  to 
a  heavy,  oval  clump  of  grass,  saying:  "The  outcast 
of  the  jungle  is  in  that  cover,  sahib." 

"Now  this  is  the  plan,"  Finnerty  outlined  to  Swin- 
ton.  "Stripes  is  evidently  pretty  well  fed,  and  hasn't 
been  shot  at,  so  he's  cheeky.  He  won't  leave  that 
grass  in  this  hot  sun  unless  he  has  to — that's  tiger 
in  general — but  this  cuss  may  have  some  variations. 
He's  quite  aware  that  we're  here.  Hark  back  on 
this  road  that  we've  come  by  till  you  reach  that  old, 
dry  river  bed,  and  go  down  that  till  you  come  to  a 
nala  that  runs  out  of  this  big  patch  of  grass.  I'll 
wait  till  you're  posted  there,  then  I'll  beat  in  slowly 
through  the  grass  from  this  side,  not  making  much 
fuss  so  that  Stripes  won't  think  I'm  driving  him. 
When  he  breaks  cover  from  the  other  end  he'll  make 
for  that  nala.  Don't  shoot  till  you're  sure  of  your 
shot;  just  behind  the  shoulder,  if  possible,  but  raking 
forward — that's  the  spot." 

"Sahib,"  and  the  Banjara  pointed  with  his  bam- 
boo to  where  a  small  bird  was  circling  and  darting 
with  angry  cries  above  the  canes. 

"Yes,  that's  where  he  is,"  Finnerty  declared; 
"that's  a  bulbul — pugnacious  little  cuss — trying  to 
drive  Stripes  away." 

Finnerty  waited  until  he  was  quite  sure  Swinton 
and  his  companion  would  be  in  position;  then  at  a 
command  his  mahout  prodded  the  elephant  with  a 
hooked  spear,  crying:  "Dut-dut,  king  of  all  elephants, 
dut-dut!" 

With  a  fretful  squeak  of  objection  the  elephant, 


86  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

curling  his  trunk  between  his  tusks  for  its  safety, 
forged  ponderously  ahead.  Like  a  streamer  from 
the  topmast  of  a  yacht  the  bulbul,  weaving  back  and 
forth,  showed  Finnerty  the  tiger  was  on  the  move. 
The  major  did  not  hurry  him,  knowing  that  if  pressed 
too  close  he  might  break  back,  thinking  he  was  being 
driven  into  a  trap. 

The  Banjara,  anxious  to-see  the  finish  of  the  beast 
that  had  slain  his  cow,  worked  his  way  along  the 
grass  patch,  watching  the  bulbul  and  Finnerty's  how- 
dah,  which  just  showed  above  the  canes.  As  the  tiger 
stealthily  slipped  away  from  the  advancing  elephant 
other  jungle  dwellers  in  the  kagar  grass  moved  for- 
ward to  escape  from  the  killer.  Knowledge  of  this 
movement  of  game  came  scenting  the  wind  that  smote 
on  the  Banjara  hound's  nostrils.  He  was  a  hunting 
dog;  his  very  living  depended  on  it.  He  saw  a  honey 
badger  slip  from  the  reeds  and  disappear  in  a  hole 
in  a  bank;  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  mouse  deer;  and 
all  the  time  his  master  was  shaping  his  course  and 
timing  it  by  the  bulbul.  Where  there  were  so  many 
small  dwellers  of  the  jungle  afoot  there  surely  would 
be  some  eating,  so  the  hound  slipped  into  the  cane 
and  drifted  ahead  of  the  tiger. 

The  wind  that  had  been  blowing  across  the  grass 
now  took  a  slant  and  came  riffling  the  feathered  tops 
of  the  heavy  cane  from  the  opposite  point,  carrying 
a  taint  of  the  Gilfain  party. 

The  tiger,  who  had  been  slowly  working  his  way 
in  that  direction,  stopping  every  few  feet  to  look 
back  over  his  shoulder,  threw  up  his  head  and  read 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  87 

the  warning  message — the  sahib  scent  that  was  so 
different  from  that  of  the  coconut-oiled  natives, 

The  sun,  slanting  in  between  the  reeds,  threw 
shadow  streaks  of  gold  and  brown  and  black.  The 
tiger  knew  what  that  meant — that  with  his  synthetic- 
striped  skin  he  was  all  but  invisible  at  ten  paces.  He 
circled  to  the  left,  and  when  he  had  found  a  thick 
tangle  of  cane  that  promised  cover,  burrowed  into 
it  like  a  jungle  pig.  With  his  head  flat  to  his  fore- 
paws,  hiding  his  white  ruff — so  like  the  chin  whisker 
of  an  old  man — he  easily  might  be  passed  without 
discovery. 

The  bulbul  eyed  this  performance  thoughtfully;  a 
tiger  lying  down  for  a  sleep  was  something  not  to 
waste  time  over.  With  a  little  tweak  of  triumph  he 
settled  for  an  instant  on  the  bare  arm  of  a  leafless, 
leper-marked  dalbergia  tree;  then,  catching  sight  of 
something  he  disliked  even  more  than  a  tiger,  and 
still  in  a  warlike  mood,  he  continued  on  with  the  dog. 

When  Gilfain's  mahout  pointed  with  his  goad  to 
the  bulbul's  squawking  approach,  the  Englishman 
cocked  both  barrels  of  his  Paradox  and  waited. 

The  dog  gradually  worked  up  to  the  edge  of  the 
cane,  and  lay  down  just  within  its  cover,  ready  for 
a  sudden  spring  on  any  small  animal  that  might  come 
ahead  of  the  tiger. 

"There  is  the  tiger,  just  within  the  tall  grass.  He 
has  seen  us  and  will  not  come  out,"  the  mahout  ad- 
vised. 

"What  shall  we  do,  captain?"  Lord  Victor  asked. 
"Go  in  and  beat  him  out?" 


88  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"No ;  he'll  break  back  or  take  to  the  side  for  it. 
If  we  wait  till  Finnerty  beats  up,  the  tiger  will  make 
a  dash  across  to  that  other  big  stretch  of  heavy  grass 
on  our  right.  There's  a  game  path  between  the  two, 
and  he'll  stick  to  that." 

"But  I  can't  hit  him  on  the  gallop — not  in  a  vital 
spot." 

"If  you  get  a  chance  at  him  before  he  breaks 
cover  let  go;  if  you  don't  bowl  him  over  I'll  take  a 
pot  shot." 

Suddenly  Lord  Victor,  quivering  with  excitement, 
his  heart  beating  a  tattoo  that  drowned  something 
Swinton  whispered,  drew  a  bead  on  a  patch  of  rufous 
fur  that  showed  between  the  quivering  reeds. 

Back  in  the  canes  sounded  a  squealing  trumpet 
note  from  Finnerty's  elephant.  With  his  keen  scent 
he  had  discovered  the  tiger.  Their  elephant  an- 
swered the  call,  and  Lord  Victor,  fearing  the  animal 
his  gun  covered  would  break  back,  pulled  the  trigger. 
Unfortunately,  and  by  chance,  his  aim  was  good. 

A  howl  of  canine  agony  followed  the  report,  and 
the  Banjara's  dog  pitched  headfirst  out  of  the  cover, 
sat  up  on  his  haunches,  looked  at  them  in  a  stupid, 
dazed  way,  then  raised  his  head  and  howled  from 
the  pain  of  a  red-dripping  wound  in  his  shoulder. 

Pandemonium  broke  loose.  Down  in  the  cane 
there  was  the  coughing  roar  of  a  charging  tiger;  the 
squeal  of  a  frightened  elephant;  the  bark  of  a  gun; 
and  out  to  one  side  the  harsh  voice  of  the  Banjara 
calling,  the  growing  cadence  of  his  tones  suggesting 
he  was  approaching  with  alacrity. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  89 

Lord  Victor,  a  presentiment  of  ribald  retribution 
because  of  his  too  excellent  marksmanship  flashing 
through  his  mind,  sprang  to  his  feet  just  as  the  ele- 
phant, excited  by  all  these  wondrous  noises,  com- 
menced a  ponderous  buck;  that  is  to  say,  an  attempt 
to  bolt.  At  the  first  stride  a  huge  foot  went  into  the 
soft,  black  cotton  soil,  and  the  young  nobleman, 
thrown  off  his  balance,  dove  headfirst  out  of  the  how- 
dah.  The  soft  muck  saved  him  from  a  broken  neck; 
it  also  nearly  smothered  him.  Eyes,  nose,  mouth 
full — it  was  squirted  in  large  quantities  down  his 
spine. 

Swinton  started  to  swear,  angered  by  the  mess 
Lord  Victor  had  made  of  things ;  but  when  that  young 
man  pulled  himself  like  a  mud  turtle  out  of  the  ooze 
and  stood  up,  the  reproach  trailed  off  into  a  spasm 
of  choking  laughter.  But  the  Banjara  arriving  on 
the  scene  checked  this  hilarity;  indeed  it  was  prob- 
ably Gilfain's  grotesque  appearance  that  saved  his 
life. 

Finnerty,  too,  hove  hugely  onto  the  scene,  a  little 
rivulet  of  blood  streaming  from  his  elephant's  trunk. 
"Were  there  two  tigers?"  he  called  as  he  emerged 
from  the  cane. 

His  circling  eye  fell  upon  the  black-mucked  noble- 
man. "Gad,  man,  what's  happened?"  he  queried, 
clapping  a  hand  to  his  mouth  to  smother  his  laughter. 
Then  he  saw  the  dog  and  its  owner,  and  hastily 
dropping  from  the  howdah  pushed  over  beside  Lord 
Victor,  saying:  "Get  back  on  your  elephant" 

"Look,  huzoor!"     And  the  Banjara  spread  his 


90  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

big  palm  in  a  denunciatory  way  toward  the  dying 
dog.  "I,  having  had  my  buffalo  slain  by  a  tiger  that 
I  had  befriended,  and  bringing  the  word  to  the  sahib 
that  he  might  obtain  a  cherished  skin,  now  have  this 
accursed  trial  thrust  upon  me.  Why  should  the 
young  of  the  sahibs  go  forth  to  do  a  man's  work, 
huzoor?" 

"It  was  an  accident,"  the  major  replied.  "Come 
to  the  bungalow  to-night  and  you  will  be  given  the 
price  of  two  dogs." 

"Better  make  it  the  price  of  five  dogs,  major," 
Swinton  called. 

"I'll  pay  for  a  whole  pack  of  hounds;  I'll  stock  a 
kennel  for  him.  I  was  too  devilish  quick  on  the  trig- 
ger." Lord  Victor  emptied  the  black  muck  from  his 
ears. 

The  Banjara,  not  understanding  English,  looked 
suspiciously  at  Finnerty,  who  hedged:  "The  sahib 
says  you  will  be  given  the  price  of  three  dogs." 

"Sahib,  how  shall  we  fix  the  price  of  Banda,  that 
is  a  Banjara?  Such  are  not  sold.  I  have  dogs  that 
are  just  dogs,  and  if  I  had  known  that  this  sahib 
was  young  in  the  ways  of  the  hunt  I  would  have 
brought  them  for  his  practice.  And  was  there  a  kill 
of  tiger,  or  did  the  sahib  also  shoot  somebody's  dog?" 

"Be  careful!"  Finnerty  took  a  step  toward  the 
ironical  one,  who  backed  up.  Then  the  major  said 
in  a  mollifying  way :  "We'll  kill  the  tiger  to-morrow." 

Muttering  "Kul,  kul — it  is  always  to-morrow  for 
a  difficult  work,"  the  herdsman  took  under  his  arm 
his  wounded  dog  and  strode  angrily  away. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  91' 

"Too  devilish  bad!  He's  fond  of  that  cur,"  Lord 
Victor  said  mournfully. 

"I  had  a  corking  good  chance  at  Stripes,"  Fin- 
nerty  offered,  "but  I  muddled  it  when  my  elephant 
almost  stepped  on  the  smooth  old  cuss,  who  was  lying 
doggo;  he  got  up  with  a  roar  of  astonishment  and 
took  a  swipe  at  the  beast's  trunk.  I  was  holding  the 
ten-bore,  loaded  with  shot  to  fire  across  the  cane 
should  Stripes  try  to  break  back,  and,  rattled  by  his 
sudden  charge,  I  blazed  away,  peppering  him  with 
bird  shot.  So,  you  see,  Gilfain,  we're  all  liable  to 
blunder  in  this  game.  We'll  go  back  now  and  take 
up  the  hunt  to-morrow." 

As  they  went  back  Mahadua  put  his  hand  on  Fin- 
nerty's  foot  and  asked:  "Did  you  see  the  spectacles 
on  Pundit  Bagh?" 

Finnerty  nodded,  for  he  had  seen  the  black  rings 
when  the  tiger  lifted  his  head. 

"And  did  sahib  put  down  the  ball  gun  and  take 
up  the  one  that  is  for  birds  and  shoot  over  Pundit's 
head  because  he,  too,  thinks  that  it  is  the  spirit  of  a 
man?" 

"It  is  not  good  to  offend  the  gods,  Mahadua,  if 
one  is  to  live  with  them,  so  we  will  save  the  killing 
of  the  pundit  for  the  young  sahib  who  soon  goes  back 
to  Inglistan,  where  the  anger  of  the  gods  cannot  fol- 
low him,"  Finnerty  answered  solemnly. 

In  the  other  howdah,  Lord  Victor,  in  whose  mind 
rankled  the  dog's  shooting,  brought  up  in  extenua- 
tion this  same  matter  of  Finnerty's  confessed  blun- 
der, for  he  had  not  caught  the  chivalry  of  the  major's 


92  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

lie.  "I  didn't  miss  like  the  major,  anyway,"  he  be- 
gan. 

"No,  you  didn't — unfortunately."  Swinton  was 
holding  a  cheroot  to  a  lighted  match. 

"Really,  captain,  I  wasn't  so  bad.  Fancy  an  old 
hunter  like  him  getting  fuzzled  and  banging  at  a 
tiger  with  bird  shot." 

Swinton  shot  a  furtive  look  at  the  thin,  long-nosed 
face  that  was  still  piebald  with  patches  of  caked 
lava;  then  he  turned  his  eyes  away  and  gazed  out 
over  the  plain  with  its  coloured  grass  and  wild  indigo 
scrub.  A  pair  of  swooping  jheel  birds  cut  across, 
piping  shrilly:  "Did  you  do  it,  did  you  do  it!" 

"That'll  be  a  corking  fine  yarn  for  the  club  when 
I  get  back,"  Lord  Victor  added. 

"And  will  you  tell  them  about  the  dog  you  shot?" 

"Rather!    I  didn't  miss,  and  the 'major  did." 

Swinton  turned  his  brown  eyes  on  -the  cheerful 
egoist.  "Gilfain,  you're  young,  therefore  not  hope- 
less." 

"I  say,  old  chap,  what's  the  sequel  to  that  moral- 
ising?" 

"That  probably  before  you  get  out  of  India  you'll 
understand  just  how  good  a  sportsman  Major  Fin- 
nerty  is." 

Their  elephant  had  been  traversing  a  well-worn 
path  along  the  bottom  of  a  hollow,  and  where  it  left 
the  nala  to  reach  the  plain  they  suddenly  came  upon 
the  Banjara's  encampment.  It  was  a  tiny  village  of 
dark-coloured  tents;  to  one  side  of  this  was  a  herd  of 
buffalo  that  had  come  in  from  the  plain  to  be  milked. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  93 

They  could  see  the  herdsman  sitting  moodily  on  his 
black  blanket,  and  beside  him  lay  the  dead  dog. 

The  young  Englishman  viewed  not  without  alarm 
the  women  who  wore  belts  beneath  which  were  stuck 
old-fashioned  pistols  and  knives.  This  was  the  Ban- 
jara  custom,  but  the  guilty  man  feared  it  was  a  special 
course  of  punishment  for  him. 

Finnerty's  elephant  had  overtaken  them,  and  now 
again  the  major  had  to  explain  that  the  dog  would 
be  paid  for  three  times  over,  and  the  tiger  would  be 
surely  shot  on  the  morrow. 

At  this  promise,  a  ponderous  woman  who  had  the 
airs  of  a  gipsy  queen  pointed  to  the  slayer  of  the 
dog  and  said:  "To-morrow  the  sahib  will  hunt 
again!" 

The  youngsters  whooped  with  joy,  catching  the 
satire. 

Finnerty  ordered  the  march  resumed. 

At  a  turn,  Mahadua  pointed  to  some  little  red- 
and-white  flags  that  fluttered  above  a  square  plinth 
of  clay  upon  which  was  the  crude  painting  of  a  ver- 
milion tiger,  saying:  "That  is  the  shrine  of  Pundit 
Bagh,  and  if  the  sahib  wishes  to  slay  him,  it  being 
necessary  in  the  law  of  the  jungle,  it  might  avert  evil 
if  sacrifice  were  made  at  the  shrine." 

"An  offering  of  sweetmeats  and  silver?" 

"No,  huzoor.  If  a  goat  is  purchased  by  the  sahib 
and  a  bottle  of  arrack,  Mahadua  will  take  the  goat 
to  the  shrine,  pour  the  wine  on  his  head  till  he  has 
bowed  three  times  to  the  god,  and  cut  his  throat  so 
that  the  blood  falls  upon  the  shrine  to  appease  the 


94  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

god.     Also  I  will  hang  up  a   foot  of  the  goat." 

"What  becomes  of  the  goat?"  the  major  asked. 

"We  will  make  kabobs  of  the  flesh  in  the  little 
village  yonder,  and  hold  a  feast  to-night." 

Finnerty  remained  silent,  and  the  Ahnd,  to  secure 
a  feast,  fell  back  upon  tangible  arguments.  "Sahib, 
if  the  villagers  are  full  with  feasting  and  happy  be- 
cause of  a  little  arrack  warm  in  their  stomachs,  they 
will  not  go  forth  in  the  early  morning  with  conch 
horns  and  axes  to  beat  upon  trees  to  drive  Pundit 
Bagh  up  into  the  hills  so  he  may  not  be  slain." 

"All  right,  Mahadua,  I'll  furnish  the  goat." 


PART  TWO 


PART  TWO 
Chapter  VII 

THEY  had  come  to  where  the  open  plain  gave 
way  to  patches  of  jungle  and  rolling  land  clad 
with  oak  and  rhododendron. 

The  other  elephant  came  alongside,  and  Finnerty 
suggested:  "We  might  walk  back  to  my  bungalow 
from  here  on  the  chance  of  getting  some  game  for 
the  pot.  There's  quail,  grey  and  painted  pheasants, 
green  pigeon,  and  perhaps  a  peacock — I  heard  one 
call  up  in  the  jungle.  I've  got  shells  loaded  with 
number  six  for  my  lo-bore." 

"Good!"  Swinton  answered.  "I'm  cramped  sit- 
ting here." 

"I'm  game,"  Lord  Victor  agreed. 

Finnerty  sent  the  elephants  on,  keeping  Mahadua, 
the  shikari. 

A  hot  sun  was  shooting  rapidly  down  close  to  the 
horizon,  glaring  like  a  naming  dirigible.  A  nightjar 
was  swooping  through  the  air  like  a  swallow,  utter- 
ing his  weird  evening  call,  "Chyeece,  chyeece,  chy- 
eece !"  as  they  went  through  a  fringe  of  dwarf  bam- 
boos and  up  into  the  shadow  of  the  trees. 

Here  Finnerty  checked,  saying:  "I'm  afraid  I'll 
have  to  keep  in  the  lead."  He  lifted  a  foot,  showing 
a  boot  made  of  soft  sambar  skin  with  a  cotton  sole. 

97 


98 

"Every  creature  in  the  jungle  is  on  the  qui  vive,  and 
for  stalking  on  foot  one  has  to  wear  these  silent 
creepers." 

They  had  not  travelled  far  along  the  narrow  jungle 
path  that  had  been  worn  smooth  by  the  bare  feet  of 
natives  crossing  from  village  to  village  when  Fin- 
nerty  stood  rigid  and  beckoned  gently  with  a  fore- 
finger; and  when  they  had  reached  his  side  they 
could  hear  the  jabber  of  monkeys  scolding  angrily 
far  up  the  path.  Between  them  and  the  jungle  dis- 
cord was  a  large  monkey  sitting  on  the  limb  of  a 
tree,  with  his  face  turned  away  and  his  long  tail 
hanging  down. 

Finnerty  put  a  finger  to  his  lips,  and,  slipping  for- 
ward with  the  soft  stealthiness  of  a  leopard,  unde- 
tected by  the  monkey,  who  was  intent  on  his  com- 
panions' squabble,  gave  the  tail  a  pull.  The  startled 
and  enraged  lungur  whisked  about  and  thrust  his 
black  face,  with  its  fringe  of  silver-grey  whiskers, 
forward  pugnaciously,  pouring  out  a  volley  of  simian 
oaths.  Seeing  a  sahib,  he  stopped  with  a  gasping 
cry  of  fright  and  raced  up  the  tree  to  take  a  diving 
flight  to  another. 

"No  end  of  a  funny  caper !"  Lord  Victor  laughed. 

"No  use  of  keeping  quiet  now,"  the  major  de- 
clared; "those  noisy  devils  have  stirred  up  every- 
thing. If  I  were  following  up  a  tiger  I'd  know  they 
had  spotted  him." 

"Behold,  sahib!"  And  Mahadua  pointed  to  the 
trunk  of  the  rhododendron. 

When  Finnerty  had  closely  examined  some  marks 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  99 

about  the  height  of  his  head  in  the  tree,  he  said: 
"Even  if  our  friend  Pundit  Bagh  hasn't  an  evil 
spirit, -he  has  a  sense  of  humour;  he's  sharpened  his 
claws  here,  and  not  long  ago,  either." 

"Really?  Oh,  I  say,  old  top,  you're  spoofing. 
No  end  of  a  good  draw,  though."  And  Lord  Victor 
chuckled. 

"I'm  in  earnest,"  Finnerty  declared  crisply.  "A 
rhododendron  has  a  bark  like  rough  sandpaper — it's 
a  favourite  whetstone  for  the  cat  tribe ;  and  this  was 
a  big  tiger,  as  you  can  judge  by  the  height  of  the 
marks." 

"There  are  no  pugs  on  the  path,  sahib,"  Mahadua 
advised,  after  a  search. 

"We'll  keep  close  together  for  a  bit,"  Finnerty 
advised,  starting  on. 

At  Finnerty's  elbow  the  shikari  whispered:  "Tell 
the  sahibs  to  talk,  so  that  we  come  not  in  a  startling 
way  upon  the  Pundit,  that  he  may  escape  in  peace." 

The  major  conveyed  this  message  to  his  compan- 
ions. 

For  a  hundred  yards  they  walked  through  a  jungle 
that  was  now  silent  save  for  their  voices  and  the  slip 
of  their  feet  on  the  smooth  earth.  From  a  tangle  of 
raspberry  bushes  ahead  a  king  crow  rose  in  excited 
flight. 

"That's  a  bird  that  always  gets  in  a  rage  when 
tiger  is  about,"  Finnerty  explained;  "so  keep  your 
eye  open — the  jungle's  thick  here." 

The  major  had  taken  a  knife  from  his  pocket,  and 
he  now  ran  its  sharp  blade  around  two  lo-bore  shells, 


100  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

just  between  the  wads  which  separated  the  powder 
from  the  shot,  saying,  as  he  slipped  first  the  shot  half 
and  next  the  powder  half  into  his  gun :  "That  is  now 
practically  a  ball  cartridge,  for  the  shot  packet  will 
carry  like  a  bullet  for  a  good  many  yards.  I  don't 
think  we'll  see  him,  though.  Ah!  Mistaken!" 

A  magnificent  striped  creature  slipped  without 
noise  from  some  thick  undergrowth  twenty  yards 
ahead,  and  now  stood  across  the  path,  his  huge  head 
turned  so  that  the  questioning  yellow  eyes  were  full 
upon  them. 

"Pundit  Bagh — see  his  spectacles,  sahib!"  Maha- 
dua  gasped. 

The  curious  black  oval  markings  added  to  the  sin- 
ister malignity  of  the  unblinking  eyes. 

"Don't  move,  you  chaps;  he's  only  bluffing.  If 
you  weaken  he'll  charge,"  Finnerty  cautioned. 

"I  will  speak  to  Pundit  Bagh,"  Mahadua  said, 
stepping  a  pace  forward.  "Kudawand,  Protector  of 
the  Village,  go  in  peace.  Did  not  the  sahib  this  day 
give  you  back  your  life  ?  Did  not  the  sahib  put  down 
the  rifle  and  take  up  the  bird  gun  and  shoot  in  the 
air  over  your  head?  Go  in  peace,  Kudawand,  lest 
the  sahib  now  smite  thee  with  the  ball  gun." 

"Have  you  a  box  of  matches,  Swinton?"  the  ma- 
jor asked,  a  quick  thought  coming  to  him  that  prob- 
ably the  tiger,  in  his  migrations  to  the  hills,  had 
learned  to  dread  the  fire  line  of  the  burning  grass. 

Something  of  this  scheme  registered  in  Swinton's 
brain,  for  he  answered :  "I've  got  a  newspaper,  too." 

"Give  the  paper  and  matches  to  Mahadua."  Then 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  101 

to  the  servant  he  added:  "Roll  the  paper  like  a  torch 
and  light  it." 

The  tiger  watched  this  performance  with  interest. 
There  is  no  dweller  of  the  jungle  but  is  a  victim  of 
curiosity — the  unusual  will  always  arrest  their  atten- 
tion; and  the  tiger's  attitude  assured  Finnerty  that 
he  really  had  no  fixed  purpose;  it  would  take  very 
little  to  make  him  either  attack  or  retreat.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  the  Banjara's  buffalo,  killed  out  of  pure 
deviltry,  and  the  mauled  native,  Finnerty  would  have 
had  no  hesitation  in  thinking  the  tiger  would  turn 
from  the  path  if  they  kept  steadily  advancing. 

When  Mahadua  struck  a  match  on  the  box,  its 
snapping  hiss  and  flare  of  light  caused  an  uneasy 
shift  of  the  spectacled  eyes.  When  the  paper  showed 
its  larger  flame,  the  look  of  distrust  and  suspicion 
increased;  the  bristled  lips  twisted  in  a  nervous 
snarl;  the  powerful  tail  that  had  been  swinging  in 
complacent  threatening  from  side  to  side  now  stilled 
and  dropped. 

"Move  on!"  Finnerty  commanded,  stepping  slow- 
ly forward,  the  lO-bore  held  waist-high,  both  fingers 
on  the  triggers. 

Mahadua,  holding  the  burning  paper  straight  in 
front  of  him,  kept  pace  with  his  master,  Swinton  and 
Lord  Victor  following  close. 

The  sinister  ominousness  of  this  performance,  its 
silent  aggression,  wakened  in  the  tiger's  wary  mind 
the  dominant  thought  of  his  lifetime — caution,  sus- 
picion of  a  trap.  It  was  a  supreme  test  of  unheated 
courage  between  two  magnificent  creatures,  each  of 


102  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

his  own  species — the  gigantic  man  and  the  regal 
tiger;  and  the  physical  advantage  was  with  the 
beast.  Step  by  step,  slow-measured,  Finnerty  and 
the  shikari  pressed  forward.  The  Pundit  now  swung 
his  lithe  body  with  sinuous  grace  till  he  stood  ag- 
gressively straight  in  the  path,  his  head  lowered  so 
that  a  little  furrow  showed  between  his  shoulder 
blades  and  the  red-green  eyes  slanted  evilly  upward 
through  the  spectacles. 

Finnerty  read  the  sign.  If  the  tiger  crouched  flat 
to  earth,  ready  for  a  spring,  it  would  be  well  to  halt 
and  try  still  further  his  courage  by  calmly  waiting 
his  attack.  The  big  tail  had  ceased  its  rhythmic 
swing,  but  did  not  stiffen  in  ferocity;  it  curved  down- 
ward. Even  that  beat  of  the  pulse  of  events  Fin- 
nerty gauged. 

At  ten  yards  Lord  Victor  had  ceased  to  breathe ; 
he  wanted  to  scream  under  the  cracking  strain.  He 
felt  a  hand  on  his  arm — it  was  Swinton's.  The  paper 
torch  palpitated  in  the  native's  trembling  hand;  but 
he  faltered  not,  though  the  vicious  eyes  were  ever  on 
him  and  the  fire.  Nine  yards,  eight  yards — all  a 
hell  of  silent,  nervous  strain.  Seven  yards — the  tiger 
turned  in  a  slow,  voluptuous  glide,  his  ominous  eyes 
still  on  the  torchbearer,  and  slipped  through  the 
bushes  to  the  jungle  beyond. 

Finnerty  quickened  his  pace  to  a  fast  walk,  say- 
ing: "Put  the  light  out — save  the  paper." 

Presently  Mahadua  touched  Finnerty's  elbow  and 
held  up  a  hand.  Listening,  the  major  heard  the 
"miouw"  of  a  peacock — not  the  usual,  droning  note, 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  103 

but  a  sharp,  angry  screech.  Immediately  the  alarmed 
belling  of  a  sambar  came  from  the  direction  in  which 
the  peacock  had  called,  followed  by  a  short,  muf- 
fled roar  from  the  tiger. 

"Missed  him!"  Finnerty  commented.  He  turned 
to  his  companions.  "Our  shooting  has  been  spoiled; 
we'll  just  push  on  to  my  bungalow." 


Chapter  VIII 

CAPTAIN  SWINTON  and  Lord  Victor  re- 
mained with  Finnerty  for  dinner,  and  after 
that  meal,  sitting  on  the  verandah,  the  latter 
asked:  "What  sort  of  bally  charm  did  that  shikari 
repeat  when  he  made  that  ripping  address  to  the 
tiger,  major?" 

Finnerty  looked  at  Swinton  and  the  latter  nodded 
violently;  but  the  major  answered  curtly:  "I  forget." 

"Oh,  I  say !  I  want  to  know,  old  top — it'll  go  well 
when  I  tell  the  story  in  London."  He  turned  to 
Swinton.  "Captain,  perhaps  your  memory  is  bet- 
ter." 

"If  you  must  know,"  Swinton  answered,  in  mock 
resignation — for  he  was  most  anxious  to  interpret 
the  native's  words — "Mahadua  told  the  tiger  to  play 
the  game,  for  Finnerty  had  purposely  put  down  his 
rifle,  taken  up  the  shotgun,  and  fired  over  his  head 
to  spare  his  life." 

"That's  when  you  made  the  fumble  in  the  how- 
dah,  eh,  major?  It  would  have  been  quite  on  the 
cards  for  him  to  have  mauled  you  to-day.  You 
should  have  potted  him  when  you  had  a  chance  on 
the  elephant." 

Tried  beyond  patience  by  Gilfain's  obtuse  egotism, 
Swinton  blurted:  "Mahadua  lied  to  the  tiger;  he 
was  concealing  the  fact  that  Major  Finnerty  spared 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  105 

his  life  that  you  might  have  the  glory  of  the  kill  later 


on." 


"But,  I  say,  this  is  no  end  of  a  draw;  the  major 
told  us  he  got  rattled  and  pumped  bird  shot  into 
Stripes." 

With  a  sigh,  Swinton  gave  up  the  hopeless  task; 
and  Finnerty,  to  change  the  venue,  said : 

"I  don't  think  we  were  in  any  danger,  really.  A 
tiger  is  considerable  of  a  gentleman;  all  he  asks  is 
to  be  left  alone  to  kill  his  legitimate  prey.  And  if 
it  weren't  for  him  the  wild  pig  and  deer  would  eat 
up  the  crops  of  the  poor." 

"But  tigers  kill  a  lot  of  human  beings,"  Lord 
Victor  contended. 

"About  two  in  every  million  are  killed  annually  by 
tigers  in  India — that's  statistical.  Wolves,  leopards, 
hyenas  kill  far  more.  Also  a  very  few  tigers  do  the 
killing,  and  generally  it  was  man's  fault  in  the  first 
place.  A  griffin  comes  out  to  the  service,  makes  a 
bad  shot  in  the  dark,  and  the  tiger  is  wounded;  the 
rankling  wound  makes  him  ferocious  and  he  kills 
any  human  that  comes  within  his  reach.  If  he  recov- 
ers he  may  be  incapacitated  for  killing  game — who 
are  either  strong  or  swift — and,  driven  by  hunger, 
he  takes  the  easiest  mark,  man." 

The  Banjara  had  come  up  the  road  unnoticed.  He 
now  stood  at  the  steps,  and,  with  his  black  eyes  fixed 
on  Lord  Victor,  said,  in  heavy  gravity:  "Salaam, 
shikari  sahib." 

"Will  you  pay  the  beggar  for  that  dog,  major? 


106  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

1*11  send  the  money  over,"  Lord  Victor  said,  miss- 
ing the  sarcasm. 

When,  after  much  bargaining,  the  blood  debt  had 
been  wiped  out  at  twenty  rupees,  the  Banjara,  ring- 
ing each  coin  by  a  spin  in  the  air  with  his  thumb 
nail,  broached  the  matter  of  his  deferred  revenge. 

"What  of  the  slaying  of  that  debased  killer  of 
my  cow,  O  sahib?"  he  asked.  "I  will  tie  up  a  young 
buffalo,  so  be  it  the  sahib  will  pay  for  it,  and,  as  the 
tiger  has  got  in  this  way  of  amusing  himself,  he  will 
come.  But" — and  he  cast  a  scornful  glance  at  Lord 
Victor — "do  you  make  the  kill,  major  sahib?" 

"It  is  too  late.  We  will  take  a  dozen  elephants 
to-morrow  and  make  a  wide  beat,  driving  the  tiger 
up  to  the  guns." 

But  the  native  shook  his  head.  "The  sahib  knows 
that  if  the  elephants  are  not  trained  to  the  hunt  they 
are  no  good,  and  tiger  knows  it.  When  he  smells 
that  it  is  a  trap,  he  will  break  back,  and  some  of  the 
elephants  will  not  stand.  But  if  the  sahib  will  pay 
me  and  my  brothers  we  will  take  all  our  buffalo  and 
drive  tiger  ahead  of  them.  He  will  not  break 
back  through  the  buffalo,  for  I  will  take  them  first 
to  smell  of  the  blood  of  the  cow  he  has  slain." 

"A  good  idea,"  Finnerty  declared;  "the  buffalo 
make  great  beaters — Stripes  won't  face  them.  All 
right!"  he  told  the  Banjara.  "I'll  post  the  sahibs 
on  elephants.  Get  your  men  and  buffalo  ready  for 
two  o'clock — it  will  take  me  till  that  time  to  get 
things  ready." 
"The  tiger  will  be  in  the  same  grass,  huzoor," 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  107 

the  Banjara  said;  "but  if  the  young  sahib  shoot  a 
buffalo  or  another  dog,  that  also  he  will  be  required 
to  pay  for.  My  brothers  will  be  behind  the  buffalo, 
walking  slowly,  that  they  do  not  come  too  sudden 
upon  the  tiger,  and  they  are  men  of  passion." 

Then  the  herdsman  went  clanking  down  the  road, 
feeling  that  he  had  done  all  that  could  be  done  in 
the  way  of  insurance. 

They  sat  for  an  hour  planning  a  grand  hunt  for 
the  next  day.  Prince  Ananda  must  be  invited;  as 
they  were  shooting  over  his  grounds,  it  was  only 
proper  courtesy.  The  prince  would  bring  his  own 
elephant,  of  course,  but  reliable  hunting  elephants 
were  scarce.  The  one  Lord  Victor  and  Swinton  had 
used  that  day  had  shown  either  a  white  feather  or 
too  excitable  a  temperament;  he  would  only  do  to  put 
on  the  side  of  the  cane  belt  as  a  stop  to  keep  the 
tiger  from  cutting  out.  Finnerty's  elephant  had 
proved  fairly  steady,  but  he  needed  another;  he 
would  give  that  one  to  Swinton  and  Lord  Victor  and 
in  the  morning  get  a  goldsmith  to  beat  out  Moti's 
bell,  putting  a  metal  clapper  in  it.  The  maharajah 
had  elephants,  but  none  well  trained  for  a  drive, 
because  the  maharajah  never  shot  anything. 

Before  leaving  Swinton  took  the  major  into  the 
bungalow  and  gave  him  the  sapphire  to  use  in  the 
bell  should  it  be  necessary,  insisting  that  it  was  as 
safe  with  Finnerty  as  it  was  with  him.  At  any  rate, 
he  did  not  value  it  highly,  not  placing  any  faith  in 
its  miraculous  power. 

The  moon  had  risen  when  the  two  drove  back  to 


108  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

their  bungalow  in  the  major's  dogcart.  As  they 
swung  to  enter  the  gate,  the  horse  recoiled  with  a 
snort  of  fear;  the  check  was  so  sudden  that  Swinton, 
to  avoid  a  headfirst  dive,  jumped,  cannoning  into  a 
native,  who,  his  face  covered  by  his  loin  cloth,  dashed 
from  the  compound.  Instinctively  Swinton  grabbed 
the  fleeing  man;  but  the  latter,  with  a  dexterous 
loosening  twist  of  his  garment,  left  it  in  the  captain's 
hands  and  sped  away.  On  the  ground  lay  a  white 
envelope  and  a  small  notebook  that  had  fallen  from 
a  fold  of  the  cloth,  and  these  Swinton  put  in  his 
pocket,  saying:  "That  man  has  been  up  to  some  dev- 
iltry." To  Finnerty's  syce  he  added:  "Take  the 
tom-tom  back;  we'll  walk  to  the  bungalow." 

"I  say,  old  chap,"  cried  Lord  Victor,  "don't  you 
know  this  is  no  end  of  a  risky  caper;  that  urban  tiger 
dashed  that  fellow — what!" 

"We'd  be  in  a  hat  if  we  stuck  to  the  tom-tom  in 
that  event;  that  flooey-headed  horse  would  kill  us  if 
the  tiger  didn't." 

At  that  instant  the  captain's  foot  caught  something 
that  projected  from  the  crotons.  A  look  disclosed  a 
pair  of  legs.  There  was  something  familiar  about 
these  white-trousered  limbs  that  terminated  in  canvas 
shoes,  and  their  owner  must  be  either  very  drunk  or 
dead.  Swinton  grasped  the  projecting  feet  and  pulled 
their  owner  to  the  drive,  where  he  lay  on  his  back, 
the  moonlight  glinting  the  glazed  eyes.  It  was  Per- 
reira — and  he  was  dead.  His  neck  showed  an  abra- 
sion as  though  a  rope  had  scorched  it;  and  when 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  109 

Swinton  lifted  the  dead  man's  shoulders  the  head 
hung  limp  like  the  head  of  a  rag  doll. 

"That  old  Thug  trick  1"  Swinton  declared.  "Some- 
body caught  him  from  behind  with  a  towel  across 
the  throat,  threw  him  to  the  ground,  put  a  foot  on 
his  back,  and  with  one  twist  broke  his  neck," 

"Murdered!"  Lord  Victor  gasped. 

"Yes.  That  native  I  met  at  the  gate  did  the 
trick."  Raising  his  voice,  the  captain  called :  "Chow 
kidarf  Watchman!" 

There  was  an  answer  from  somewhere  in  the  com- 
pound, and  the  evil-faced  native  they  had  seen  the 
night  before  came  hurrying  to  where  they  stood. 

"If  the  half-caste  sahib  is  dead  he  must  have  fallen 
from  a  horse  and  broke  his  neck,"  the  watchman  de- 
clared. 

"Call  the  servants  and  carry  him  into  the  bunga- 
low where  the  baboo  is;  then  go  at  once  down  to  the 
police  and  tell  who  killed  this  man,"  Swinton  com- 
manded. 

At  that  instant  Baboo  Dass,  who,  startled  by 
the  clamour,  had  waited  in  fear  on  the  verandah,  now 
ploughed  through  the  bushes,  saying:  "Please,  sar,  I 
will  be  frighted  if  defunct  body  is  brought  within. 
This  place  is  too  much  evil-spirited.  If  tiger  is  not 
devour  I  am  head-shaved  like  a  felon  and  burglared 
of  jewel." 

But  Swinton  turned  away  and  proceeded  with 
Lord  Victor  to  their  bungalow,  leaving  Baboo  Dass 
wrangling  with  the  watchman. 

Lord  Victor  was  in  a  captious  mood  over  the  rapid 


110  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

succession  of  stirring  episodes.  "No  end  of  a  som- 
nolent old  India — what!"  he  said  ironically,  sitting 
on  Swinton' s  bed.  "I'm  bally  well  dashed  with  all 
the  floaty  creeps.  We've  only  been  here  twenty-four 
hours,  and  we've  dined  with  the  rajah,  seen  a  top- 
ping wrestling  bout,  been  at  a  temple  riot,  chevied  a 
tiger  out  of  our  front  yard,  entertained  a  baboo 
flooey  on  Hindu  gods,  had  a  drive  for  a  tiger " 

"Shot  a  Banjara  dog,"  Swinton  interrupted,  be- 
cause he  wanted  to  go  to  bed. 

"Rather !  And  made  a  devilish  good  shot.  Then 
we  were  spoofed  by  Stripes,  and  found  a  murdered 
man  on  the  doorstep.  A  tallish  order,  I  call  all  that. 
Going  some — what!" 

Swinton  yawned  sleepily,  and  when  Lord  Victor 
had  gone  to  his  room  he  took  from  his  pocket  the 
notebook  and  letter  he  had  picked  up.  The  letter 
was  addressed  to  himself  and  contained  two  rupees. 
The  notebook  contained  curious,  ambiguous  entries. 
To  a  casual  reader  they  would  have  meant  nothing, 
but  to  Swinton  they  were  a  key  to  a  great  deal.  With 
a  small  screw  driver  he  took  the  shoulder  plate  from 
the  butt  of  a  gun,  and,  wedging  the  book  in  the  hol- 
low with  some  paper,  replaced  the  plate. 

Undoubtedly  the  little  black  book  had  something 
to  do  with  Perreira's  death.  He  would  h  ve  been 
closely  watched  since  the  watchman  had  listened  on 
the  verandah  the  night  before,  and  it  would  be  known 
he  was  coming  to  see  the  captain. 


Chapter  IX 

NEXT  morning  Swinton  again  rode  alone, 
Lord  Victor  declaring  he  would  have  enough 
exercise  in  the  hunt  that  day. 

As  Shabaz  came  out  of  his  loping  canter  and  stead- 
ied to  a  leisurely  gait  up  the  palace  hill,  Rada,  the 
groom,  overtook  his  master. 

"Put  a  hand  on  the  stirrup,"  Swinton  commanded, 
"for  the  hill  is  long  and  your  legs  are  the  legs  of 
experience." 

"As  the  sahib  wishes ;  but  I  know  little  of  her  who 
rides  the  grey  stallion,"  Rada  replied,  grasping  the 
iron.  Swinton  chuckled  at  the  nai've  admission  that 
the  servant  took  it  for  granted  he  was  to  talk,  be- 
ing thus  favoured. 

"It  is  the  way  of  my  people,"  Rada  resumed, 
when  his  breath  came  easier,  "that  when  we  make 
speech  with  a  sahib  we  watch  his  eyes  for  a  sign, 
and  if  it  is  one  of  displeasure  we  then  tell  lies  to 
avert  his  anger;  but  with  the  captain  sahib  this  may 
not  be  done." 

"Why,  Rada?" 

"Sahib  knows  the  karait — the  snake  with  an  eye 
that  is  all  red?" 

"Deadly  as  a  cobra." 

"Yes,  sahib ;  and  our  people  say  that  if  one  looks 
in 


112  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

for  a  long  time  into  that  red  eye  that  never  shifts 
nor  blinks  nor  gives  a  sign,  he  will  go  mad." 

"Delightful!     And  mine  are  like  that,  Rada?" 

"No,  sahib ;  only  so  far  as  that  they  give  no  sign. 
So  if  I  make  speech  that  is  displeasing,  the  presence 
must  command  me  to  be  still." 

After  a  time  Rada  said:  "The  Missie  Baba  will 
not  ride  the  grey  stallion  to-day?" 

"Why  not?" 

"I  know  not,  except  that  she  has  reported  that  the 
stallion  is  lame ;  but  the  groom  says  he  is  not  lame." 

Reaching  the  plateau,  Swinton  followed  a  road 
that  swung  around  the  Place  of  Roses.  Over  the 
brick  wall  floated  the  sweet  perfume  of  myriad  flow- 
ers, to  give  place  presently  to  the  tang  of  animal 
life  as  they  came  to  the  tiger  garden.  A  jungle 
clamour  vibrated  the  morning  air;  cockatoos  and 
parrakeets  called  shrilly  beyond  the  brick  wall;  a 
hornbill  sent  forth  his  raucous  screech;  pigeons  of 
all  colours,  green,  blue,  grey,  fluttered  free  in  the  air, 
waiting  for  the  grain  that  would  presently  be  scat- 
tered by  the  keepers.  The  unpleasant,  sputtering 
laugh  of  a  hyena,  raucously  grating,  mingled  with  the 
full,  rich-toned  monologue  of  leopards  that  paced 
restlessly  their  cages,  eager  for  their  meal  of  blood- 
dripping  meat. 

Then  the  road  crawled  restfully  into  the  cool  of 
a  noble  sal  forest.  To  the  right  it  branched  present- 
ly, and  he  caught  the  glint  of  white  marble  splitting 
the  emerald  green. 

"The  lady  who  rides  the  grey  stallion  lives  yon- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  113 

der  with  the  large  sahib  who  is  her  uncle,"  Rada 
explained;  and  as  they  came  to  a  path  on  the  left 
a  little  beyond,  he  continued:  "This  leads  to  Jadoo 
Nala,  wherein  is  a  pool." 

Captain  Swinton  turned  Shabaz  into  the  path,  fol- 
lowing it  to  the  edge  of  the  plateau  and  down  its 
winding  course  to  the  pool. 

Pointing  to  a  machan  in  a  pipal  tree  that  overhung 
the  pool,  Rada  said:  "That  is  the  rajah's,  but  no 
one  makes  a  kill  here — it  is  but  for  the  pleasure  of 
the  eye.  Knowing  this,  the  dwellers  of  the  jungle 
come  to  drink  of  the  waters  that  are  sweet  with  salt, 
and  depart  in  peace ;  though  it  is  said  that  at  times 
a  spirit,  in  the  shape  of  an  evil  leopard,  creeps  from 
yonder  cave  and  makes  the  kill  of  a  deer  or  a  sam- 
bar.  In  the  cave  yonder,  Buddha,  who  was  once  of 
our  faith,  lamented  on  the  sins  of  the  world  till  his 
tears  made  the  stream  sweet  with  salt,  and  so  it  has 
remained.  The  cave  is  an  abode  of  evil  spirits; 
lights  have  been  seen,  and  deep  noises  heard  such  as 
the  hill  gods  make." 

"Who  comes  to  the  pool,  Rada — for  there  is  the 
machan?" 

Rada  lifted  his  small,  black,  twitching  eyes  to  the 
placid,  opaque  ones  of  Swinton.  "The  sahib  knows 
what  talk  over  a  hookah  is,  each  one  trying  to  show 
great  knowledge;  but  it  is  whispered  at  such  times 
that  the  Missie  Baba,  who  fears  neither  horse  nor 
spirit,  comes  here  at  night." 

"For  what  purpose — to  meet  some  one?" 


114  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"Of  that  Rada  knows  nothing;  that  the  evil  gos- 
sips say  it  is  the  rajah  is  perhaps  a  lie." 

Swinton  turned  Shabaz  up  the  path,  and  at  the  top 
rode  a  little  tour  of  inspection,  following  a  road  that 
circled  above  the  winding  stream.  Overlooking  the 
Jadoo  cave  and  the  path  that  wound  down  the  hill- 
side was  a  heavy  wall  built  of  stone  that  had  been 
taken  from  the  buried  city. 

"Most  delightful  place  to  plant  a  machine  gun, 
or  even  a  'three-inch,'  "  the  captain  muttered. 

A  reverberating  tiger  roar  shook  the  earth  as 
Swinton  rounded  the  Place  of  Roses  on  his  way  back, 
and  past  its  wall  he  came  suddenly  upon  Lord  Victor 
in  active  controversy  with  a  lop-eared  native  horse 
he  was  more  or  less  astride  of.  Evidently  the  sud- 
den tiger  call  had  frightened  the  horse,  for  he  was 
whirling,  with  his  long  ewe  neck  stretched  high  in 
air,  his  lop  ears  almost  brushing  the  clinging  rider's 
face.  Lord  Victor  had  lost  his  stirrups;  he  was 
practically  over  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  sitting  the 
razor-bladed  wither.  A  country  bred's  neck  is  like  a 
piece  of  rubber  hose,  and  Anglo-Indians  have  learned 
to  sit  tight  and  let  him  have  his  head ;  but  Lord  Vic- 
tor climbed  up  the  reins,  pulling  the  brute's  head 
into  his  lap,  and  when  to  save  himself  he  threw  an 
arm  around  the  lean  neck,  down  went  the  head  and 
he  was  sent  flying,  to  sprawl  on  his  back,  where  he 
lay  eyeing  the  smiling  captain. 

Having  unseated  his  rider,  the  country  bred,  for- 
getting all  about  the  tiger,  stood  looking  with  com- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  115 

placent  vacuity  at  the  groom,  who  now  held  him  by 
the  rein. 

"Thought  you  weren't  riding  this  morning,"  Swin- 
ton  remarked,  as  they  went  down  the  hill. 

"Changed  my  mind.  You  didn't  happen  to  see 
a  young  lady  on  a  grey  stallion  this  morning,  did 
you,  old  chap?" 

"I  did  not.  And  the  earl  expects  you  to  ride 
away  from  spins,  not  after  them,  out  here." 

"The  governor  is  optimistic.  This  is  only  curios- 
ity— to  see  the  girl  Ananda  is  going  to  make  his 
queen." 

"Where  did  you  hear  that  rot?" 

"The  usual  source — my  bearer." 

"Bad  form.  It's  all  idle  gossip,  too;  she's  the 
niece  of  old  Boelke." 

"Oh,  now  I  know  why  you  ride  up  on  the  hill 
every  morning.  Did  your  bearer  tell  you?  Earl 
Craig  expects  you  to  keep  away  from  skirts  while 

By  Jove !  What's  the  bally  shindy — are  they 

planting  another  brass  god  in  the  temple?" 

Lord  Victor's  sudden  change  in  discourse  had  been 
caused  by  sounds  of  strife  that  came  from  a  Hindu 
village  that  lay  between  Maha  Bodhi  Hill  and  Dar- 
pore  City. 

"The  men  of  the  temple  and  others  who  are  fol- 
lowers of  Mahadeo  live  yonder  in  Chota  Darpore," 
Rada  said. 

As  eager  as  a  boy  at  the  clang  of  a  fire  bell,  Lord 
Victor,  his  eyes  alight  with  sporting  fervour,  cried: 


116  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"Come  on,  captain;  every  bally  hour  in  this  land  of 
the  poppy  has  its  spiffing  thrill." 

Arrived  on  the  scene,  a  unique  battle  lay  before 
their  eyes.  The  centre  of  the  conflict  was  a  silk- 
skinned,  terrified  little  cow  tied  to  a  stake.  A  fanat- 
ical Mussulman  priest,  ordained  to  the  bloodletting, 
waited  with  a  sharp  knife  behind  a  battling  line  of 
Allah  men  for  a  chance  to  slit  the  cow's  throat.  With 
the  followers  of  Mohammed  were  ranged  the  adher- 
ents of  Buddha  in  a  battle  line  that  checked  the  Hin- 
dus, who,  with  fierce  cries  of  "Metro,  maro!"  fought 
to  rescue  the  cow  and  stop  this  offence  against  their 
gods — the  slaying  of  a  sacred  animal. 

Heads  cracked  beneath  the  fall  of  staves,  and 
red  blood  spurted  from  a  knife  thrust  or  the  cut  of 
a  tulwar.  Swinton  smiled  grimly  as  he  saw  here 
and  there  a  man  in  a  green-and-gold  jacket  bring  his 
baton  down  on  the  neck  of  a  Mussulman — always  a 
Mussulman,  for  these  men  of  the  green-and-gold 
jackets  were  the  Hindu  police  of  the  maharajah. 

Encouraged  by  their  gaunt  leader,  the  Hindus 
charged  fiercely,  and,  seizing  the  cow,  bore  it  toward 
their  village,  fighting  a  rear-guard  action  as  the  Mus- 
sulmans, with  cries  of  "Allah!  Allah!"  charged  over 
the  bodies  of  men  who  lay  in  the  silent  indifference 
of  death,  or  writhed  in  pain.  There  was  a  desperate 
melee,  a  maelstrom  of  fanatical  fiends,  out  of  which 
the  Mussulmans  emerged  with  the  sacrificial  victim 
to  fight  their  way  backward  to  the  slaughter  mound. 

The  tinkle  of  a  bell,  the  "phrut-phrut"  of  an  ele- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  117 

phant,  caused  Swinton  to  turn  toward  the  road.  It 
was  Finnerty  on  Burra  Moti. 

The  mahout,  at  a  command  from  the  major,  drove 
Moti  into  the  fray,  where  she,  with  gentle,  admonish- 
ing touches  from  the  mahout's  feet  against  her  ears, 
picked  up  one  combatant  after  another,  tossing  them 
without  serious  injury  to  one  side.  But  the  fanatics, 
religion-crazed,  closed  in  again  in  Moti's  wake  and 
smote  as  before.  One  Mussulman,  whose  red-dyed 
beard  bespoke  one  who  had  been  to  Mecca,  threw 
a  heavy  Pathan  knife  at  Finnerty,  just  missing  his 
mark. 

Suddenly  a  shrill  voice  rose  in  a  screaming  com- 
mand; there  was  terror  in  the  voice  that  came  from 
the  lips  of  a  gigantic  Tibetan  priest,  who  stood  with 
extended  arm  pointing  to  the  tinkling  bell  on  Moti's 
neck.  As  though  strong  wind  had  swept  a  field  of 
grain,  the  Buddhists  ceased  the  combat  and  stood 
with  bowed  heads.  Even  the  Mussulmans,  realising 
from  the  priest's  attitude  that  it  was  something  of 
holy  import,  rested  from  warfare. 

"It  is  the  sacred  elephant  of  the  Zyaat  of  Buddha. 
Gautama !"  the  priest  said,  when  the  tumult  had 
stilled. 

Then  spoke  Finnerty,  seizing  upon  this  miraculous 
chance :  "Cease  from  strife !  You  who  are  of  Chota 
Darpore,  go  back  to  your  village ;  you  who  are  fol- 
lowers of  the  Prophet,  the  grace  of  Allah  be  upon 
you,  go  your  way,  for  even  some  of  you  are  servants 
of  mine  at  the  keddah.  As  to  the  disciples  of  Bud- 
dha, the  bell  on  the  sacred  elephant  recalls  them  to 


118  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

peace.  I  will  take  away  from  strife  the  cow,  so 
that  there  be  no  killing." 

He  called  to  one  of  his  Mussulmans,  saying: 
"Come  you,  Amir  Khan,  and  take  the  cow  to  the 
keddah." 

The  scarlet-whiskered  Pathan  who  had  thrown 
the  knife  stepped  forward,  and  in  his  rough  voice 
said:  "Sahib,  these  infidels,  these  black  men,  have 
desecrated  the  shrine  of  Sheik  Farid  by  tying  there 
a  pig,  therefore  it  is  injustice  if  we  be  not  allowed 
to  crack  a  few  heads  and  spill  the  blood  of  a  cow  on 
the  doorstep  of  their  village." 

"You  threw  the  knife,  Hadjii;  you're  a  poor 
marksman,"  Finnerty  answered. 

"Yes,  sahib,  it  was  an  unlucky  throw;  but  a  man 
fell  against  my  elbow  at  that  point,  or  the  sahib 
would  have  received  my  gift.  Perhaps  the  next 
time  I  will  have  better  luck." 

With  a  smile  at  the  Pathan's  grim  humour,  Fin- 
nerty said:  "The  spirit  of  a  saint  like  Sheik  Farid 
is  not  disturbed  by  the  acts  of  infidels.  I  will  speak 
to  the  rajah  and  have  the  village  fined  a  matter  of 
many  rupees  to  be  paid  to  your  people,  Hadjii." 

From  the  Buddhists,  who  stood  in  a  semicircle 
eyeing  Burra  Moti  with  reverence,  a  priest  came  for- 
ward, saying:  "We  have  fought  with  the  idolaters 
because  the  shrine  rests  on  the  'Rock  of  Buddha,' 
and  so  is  sacred  to  us,  too.  The  sahib  has  seen  in 
the  flat  rock  the  footprint  of  Prince  Sakya  Sinha 
where  he  stood  and  became  Buddha?" 


THE  THREE  g:\PPHIRES  119 

"But  Buddha  commanded  peace,  not  strife,"  Fin- 
nerty  reminded  the  priest. 

At  that  instant  Burra  Moti,  undoubtedly  bored 
by  inaction,  reached  back  with  her  trunk  and  tinkled 
the  bell.  It  was  like  a  voice  crying  out  of  the  tem- 
ple. The  Buddhists  in  silence  went  away;  Amir 
Khan,  at  a  command,  departed  with  the  cow  of  dis- 
cord. 

Burra  Moti  was  turned,  and,  with  Lord  Victor 
and  Swinton  riding  at  his  side,  Finnerty  swept  re- 
gally down  the  road. 

"Your  elephant  seems  deuced  happy,  major;  she's 
got  a  tooty  little  gurgle  that  suggests  it.  Where  did 
you  find  your  sapphire  bell  clapper?"  Lord  Victor 
queried. 

"Oh,  this  isn't "  Finnerty  caught  the  import 

of  Swinton's  gasping  cough  in  time  to  switch,  add- 
ing: "This  is  a  clapper  the  old  goldsmith  fixed  up 
for  me,  and  it's  doing  beautifully.  Moti  is  like  a 
woman  that  has  found  a  necklace  she  had  lost." 
This  latter  for  Captain  Swinton's  edification. 

"Why  doesn't  Prince  Ananda  sit  on  these  bally 
fire-eating  worshippers — why  do  you  have  to  keep 
them  in  hand,  major?"  Lord  Victor  wanted  to  know. 

Finnerty  pondered  for  a  minute.  He  could  have 
told  the  captain  in  a  very  few  words  his  idea  of 
Ananda's  reasons  for  keeping  out  of  the  matter, 
but  with  Lord  Victor  he  would  have  to  answer  cau- 
tiously. 

"The  rajah's  police  wallahs  were  there,"  he  an- 
swered; "but  they're  never  any  good.  As  for  my 


120 

part  in  it,  the  Maha  Bodhi  Temple  is  really  under 
government  supervision,  being  practically  a  national 
Buddhist  institution.  The  government  never  inter- 
feres with  either  Hindus  or  the  Buddhists  there  un- 
less it  might  be  in  just  such  a  case  as  this,  to  stop  a 
riot.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I've  rather  exceeded  my 
authority,  acting  without  an  invitation  from  the  ma- 
harajah  or  an  order  from  the  government;  how- 
ever, as  it  was  a  drawn  battle,  nobody  will  appeal  to 
the  powers.  The  keddah  is  something  in  the  same 
way,"  Finnerty  added,  as  they  jogged  along;  "it's 
in  Darpore  territory,  but  the  government  has  an  ar- 
rangement with  the  maharajah,  as  this  is  an  ideal 
spot  as  a  centre  for  our  elephant  catching  all  through 
the  Siwalik  Hills." 

At  the  fork  in  the  roads  the  major  called  back: 
"After  you've  had  breakfast,  get  your  hunting  kit 
all  ready,  captain.  I'll  meet  you  with  the  elephants 
at  the  same  place  as  yesterday,  at  one  o'clock.  We 
mustn't  keep  the  old  Banjara  waiting — we're  to  be 
on  the  ground  at  two — his  buffalo  might  stir  up 
Stripes  before  we  arrive." 


Chapter  X 

THERE  was  a  scowl  on  his  face  as  Lord  Vic- 
tor, looking  so  pink  and  white  after  his  bath, 
sat  down  to  breakfast,  growling:  "There's 
a  bally  London  fog  of  that  attar  fume  in  my  room ; 
somebody's  been  pawing  my  letter  case,  kit  bag — 
everything.  It  isn't  my  bearer,  for  he  smells  chiefly 
of  dried  fish  and  opium." 

"The  attar  would  suggest  a  woman — a  jealous 
woman  looking  for  love  letters ;  but  you  haven't  beea 
here  long  enough,  Gilfain,"  the  captain  remarked. 

A  servant  entered  with  a  broiled  fish,  and  Swinton 
switched  Lord  Victor  to  a  trivial  discussion  of  food. 
When  the  servant  reappeared  later  with  curry,  the 
captain  said:  "Leave  it  on  the  table,  Abdul,  and  sit 
without."  Then,  rising,  he  added:  "I'll  be  back  in 
a  minute. 

"My  stuff  has  been  censored,  too,"  he  said,  on.  his 
return. 

"What's  the  devilish  idea — loot?" 

"No;  nothing  missing." 

"Who's  doing  it — servants?" 

"This  is  India,  youth;  here  we  don't  bother  chas- 
ing 'who ;'  we  lock  up  everything,  or  destroy  it." 

"I'm  going  to  dash  the  bearer  with  an  exam," 
Lord  Victor  said  decidedly. 

121 


122  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"You'd  get  nothing  but  lies;  you'd  draw  blank." 

The  captain  lapsed  into  a  moody  silence,  complet- 
ing a  diagnosis  of  this  disturbing  matter  mentally. 
The  attar  suggested  that  somebody  on  intimate  terms 
with  Prince  Ananda  had  investigated.  Doctor 
Boelke  would  do  it;  he  could  read  papers  written  in 
English  and  assimilate  their  contents.  If  Swinton 
were  under  suspicion,  Prince  Ananda  would  look  for 
proofs  as  to  whether  he  was  a  secret-service  man  or 
just  the  companion  of  Lord  Victor. 

Later,  when,  with  Finnerty,  they  arrived  at  the 
hunt-ground,  the  Banjara,  who  was  waiting,  said: 
"My  brothers  have  taken  the  buffalo  to  the  west  of 
the  big  growth  of  tall  grass  wherein  is  the  slayer  of 
my  cow,  because  from  that  side  blows  the  wind  and 
it  will  carry  the  scent  of  the  buffalo,  and  the  tiger 
will  move  forward,  not  catching  in  his  nostrils  word 
of  the  guns  which  the  sahib  knows  well  how  to  place. 
When  the  sahib  is  ready,  I  will  give  the  call  of  a 
buffalo,  and  my  brothers  will  make  the  drive.  Where 
will  be  the  place  of  the  young  sahib,  that  I  may  re- 
main near  in  the  way  of  advice  lest  he  shoot  one  of 
my  people,  or  even  a  buffalo?" 

"Where  will  the  tiger  break  to,  Lumbani?"  Fin- 
nerty asked. 

The  Banjara  stretched  his  long  arm  toward  the 
north.  "At  that  side  of  the  cane  fields  lies  a  nala 
that  carries  a  path  up  into  the  sal  forest,  and  the 
tiger  knows  it  well.  If  he  is  not  annoyed  with  hurry, 
he  will  come  that  way  out  of  the  cane;  and  if  the 
young  sahib's  elephant  is  stationed  in  the  nala,  the 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  123 

tiger  will  come  so  close  that  even  he  can  make  the 
kill." 

"That's  the  idea,"  Finnerty  declared.  "Swinton, 
you  and  Lord  Victor  take  your  elephant  to  the  nala 
— the  Banjara  will  show  you  the  very  spot  to  stand; 
I'll  post  the  prince  on  our  left  when  he  arrives;  I'll 
keep  the  centre,  and  if  the  tiger  is  coming  my  way  I 
can  turn  him  off  with  old  Moti — I'll  shoo  him  over 
to  you.  Here  comes  the  prince  now.  Heavens, 
you'd  think  he  was  going  to  a  marriage  procession! 
Look  at  the  gorgeous  howdah !  And  he  has  got  old 
Boelke  and  the  girl,  too." 

The  howdah  was  a  regal  affair,  such  as  native 
princes  affect  on  state  occasions.  The  girl  was  al- 
most hidden  by  the  gilded  sides  of  its  canopied  top ; 
indeed,  her  features  were  completely  masked  by  a 
veil  draped  from  the  rim  of  her  helmet.  The  heavy 
figure  of  Doctor  Boelke  bulged  from  the  front  of 
the  howdah. 

"Where  are  we  stationed,  major?"  Ananda  called, 
the  mahout  checking  their  elephant  some  distance 
away. 

"To  the  left,  beyond  the  pipal  tree." 

Swinton  chuckled,  observing  Gilfain  stretching  his 
long  neck  as  the  prince's  elephant  plodded  on;  evi- 
dently there  was  to  be  no  introduction. 

"We'd  better  get  placed  at  once,"  Finnerty  de- 
clared; "the  buffalo  may  get  out  of  hand — anything 
may  happen.  The  elephants  that  will  act  as  stops 
are  already  in  place  on  the  two  sides;  I  sent  them 
on  ahead.  The  natives  on  their  backs  will  keep  tap- 


184  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

ping  on  gongs  to  prevent  the  tiger  from  breaking 
through  the  sides;  if  he  does  break  through,  they'll 
blow  shrill  blasts  on  their  conch  shells.  Away  you 
go,  Swinton!" 

And  at  an  order  from  the  mahout,  their  elephant 
trudged  over  to  the  point  of  honour,  accompanied 
by  the  Banjara.  In  a  few  minutes  his  voice  rose  in 
the  plaintive  squeak  of  a  buffalo,  and  in  answer  down 
the  wind  that  rustled  the  feathered  tops  of  the  cane 
came  a  mild  clamour  of  buffaloes,  being  driven,  and 
men's  voices  crying: 

"Dut,  dutf     Gar!    TAoi-aoi!" 

The  buffalo  were  in  a  huge  fan,  advancing  in  a 
crescent  troupe  slowly,  so  that  the  tiger,  not  sudden- 
ly overrun,  would  keep  slipping  along  in  front. 

Finnerty  sat  with  his  .450  Express  across  his  knee, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Gilfain,  whose  head  he  could  just 
see  above  the  bank  of  the  nala,  which  was  shallow 
where  it  struck  the  plain. 

The  turmoil  of  buffalo  noises  and  their  drivers' 
cries,  drawing  near,  had  increased  in  the  cane.  To 
the  left,  on  one  of  the  stop  elephants,  a  native  beat 
vigorously  on  his  brass  gong,  followed  by  voices  cry- 
ing from  a  stop  elephant :  "The  tiger  passes  I"  Then 
a  conch  shell  sent  out  its  warning  screech. 

"Gad I   He's  broken  through!"  Finnerty  growled. 

Prince  Ananda,  thinking  the  tiger  was  escaping, 
had  the  elephant  driven  forward  to  give  Boelke  a 
shot  at  the  fleeing  beast;  but  just  as  they  reached 
the  grass  there  was  a  coughing  roar,  a  flashing  tur- 
moil of  brown  and  gold  in  the  sun,  and  the  elephant, 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  125 

terrified  by  the  ferocious  onslaught,  whirled  just  as 
Boelke's  rifle  barked.  Straight  back  for  the  fringe 
of  trees  where  Finnerty  waited  the  elephant  raced, 
the  tiger  clinging  to  his  rump  and  striving  to  reach 
the  howdah. 

Burra  Moti  knew  the  elephant  was  running  away, 
and,  at  a  command,  shuffled  forward  with  the  intent 
of  peeling  the  tiger  from  his  perch  with  her  trunk. 
But  the  fleeing  animal,  taking  Moti  for  a  new  enemy, 
swerved  to  the  right  under  the  pipal,  a  long  arm  of 
which  swept  away  the  howdah,  leaving  Herr  Boelke 
sprawled  on  the  limb  like  a  huge  gorilla  and  yelling: 
"Ach,  Gottf  Hel-lpI" 

The  tiger  was  carried  away  in  the  wreck,  and  now, 
thirty  feet  away,  was  crouched,  his  tail  lashing  from 
side  to  side. 

The  girl  had  struggled  to  her  feet  and  stood 
dazed,  clinging  to  the  wrecked  howdah.  The  tiger 
was  in  a  nasty  mood ;  he  would  charge  the  first  move 
the  girl  made,  Finnerty  knew,  and  nothing  but  a  mir- 
acle shot  through  the  heart  or  brain  could  stop  him 
in  time  to  save  her.  Ordering  the  mahout  to  pick 
the  girl  up,  he  dropped  to  the  ground.  Holding  his 
gun  from  the  hip,  both  barrels  cocked,  he  slipped 
past  the  girl  to  stand  between  her  and  the  snarling 
brute,  saying:  "Keep  cool!  Keep  your  face  to  the 
tiger  and  step  back;  the  elephant  will  pick  you  up." 

His  blue,  fearless,  Irish  eye  lay  along  the  gun  bar- 
rels, looking  into  the  yellow  eyes  of  the  tiger  as  he 
spoke  to  the  girl.  Well  he  knew  how  straight  his 
shot  must  be,  or  that  flat,  sloping  forehead,  with  its 


126  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

thick  plate  of  bone,  would  glance  the  bullet  like  ar 
mour  plate. 

A  little  cry  of  pain,  the  thud  of  a  falling  body,  told 
him  that  the  girl  had  gone  down  at  the  first  step. 
For  a  fraction  of  a  second  his  eye  had  wavered  from 
the  gun-sight,  and  the  tiger,  with  a  hoarse  growl, 
rose  in  his  catapult  charge.  Both  barrels  of  Fin- 
nerty's  rifle  blazed  as  he  was  swept  backward  by  a 
push  from  Moti's  trunk,  and  the  tiger  landed  upon 
two  gleaming  ivory  swords  that,  with  a  twist  of  the 
mighty  head,  threw  him  twenty  feet  into  the  scrub. 

With  a  roar  of  disgruntled  anger  he  bounded 
away  toward  cover  in  the  cane,  pursued  by  Gilfain, 
whose  mahout  had  driven  the  elephant  across  at  the 
sound  of  the  tiger's  charge. 

Finnerty,  telling  the  mahout  to  make  Moti  kneel, 
turned  to  the  girl,  who  sat  with  a  hand  clasping  an 
ankle,  her  face  white  with  pain;  and  as  he  lifted  her 
like  a  child,  like  a  child  she  whispered  with  breaking 
passion:  "You,  you!  God — why  should  it  be  you 
again  ?" 

Then  Finnerty  commanded  the  mahout  to  retrieve 
Herr  Boelke  from  his  perch,  pick  up  the  prince,  who 
had  scuttled  off  some  distance  when  he  fell,  and  take 
them  home. 

When  the  prince  had  been  lifted  to  the  howdah  on 
a  curl  of  Moti's  trunk,  he  waved  his  hand  to  the 
major,  calling:  "Devilish  plucky,  old  chap;  thanks 
for  the  elephant." 

The  elephant  bearing  Lord  Victor  and  the  captain 
returned,  and  the  major  tossed  up  a  gold  cigarette 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  127 

case  he  had  found  beside  the  broken  howdah,  saying: 
"You  can  give  that  to  Prince  Ananda;  fancy  he 
dropped  it." 

It  looked  familiar  to  Lord  Victor.  "Yes,"  he 
said,  "I'm  sure  it's  his.  I  know  I've  seen  it  at  Ox- 
ford." 

Plodding  homeward  in  the  solemn  dejection  of  an 
unsuccessful  hunt,  even  the  ears  of  their  elephant 
flapping  disconsolately  like  sails  of  a  windless  boat, 
Finnerty  suggested:  "If  you  chaps  would  like  it, 
we  can  swing  around  to  your  bungalow  across  the 
plain." 

"Topping!"  Lord  Victor  cried.  "I'm  so  despond- 
ent I  want  a  peg." 

At  the  bungalow  Finnerty  alighted  for  a  whisky 
and  soda;  and  Gilfain,  after  reading  a  note  his  ser- 
vant had  handed  him,  advised: 

"The  prince  wants  me  at  the  palace  for  dinner, 
and  a  confab  over  old  Oxford  days;  the  note  came 
after  we  had  gone  to  the  hunt.  Devilish  fuzzy  order, 
I  call  it — what !  I  can't  leave  you  to  dine  alone,  old 
boy." 

"The  captain  can  come  with  me — the  very  thing!" 
Major  Finnerty  declared  eagerly. 

The  arrangement  suited  Swinton  perfectly;  it 
would  give  him  an  unplanned  chance  to  talk  with  the 
major.  And  Gilfain  would,  of  course,  have  to  hon- 
our the  prince's  invitation. 

It  was  a  somewhat  tame  dinner  for  two;  though 
Ananda  plied  his  lordship  with  wine  of  an  alluring 


128  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

vintage,  for  he  had  a  "hare  to  catch,"  as  the  native 
proverb  has  it.  He  was  most  anxious  to  discover 
as  much  as  possible  about  Captain  Swinton's  mission. 
By  a  curious  chance  he  had  learned  who  Lord  Vic- 
tor's companion  was — that  he  was  Captain  Herbert, 
a  secret-service  man. 

But  Lord  Victor  was  automatically  unresponsive 
to  the  several  subtle  leads  of  his  host  for  the  simple 
reason  that  he  didn't  even  know  that  Captain  Swin- 
ton  was  in  reality  Captain  Herbert;  and  as  to  the 
mission — any  mission — why,  it  was  to  shoot  game,  to 
keep  out  of  England  for  a  season.  Prince  Ananda 
was  puzzled.  Either  Lord  Victor  was  cleverer  than 
he  had  been  at  Oxford,  or  he  knew  absolutely  noth- 
ing. Indeed,  the  subject  of  Captain  Swinton  bored 
Gilf ain ;  he  saw  enough  of  his  companion  in  the  day. 
He  was  wishing  Ananda  would  say  something  about 
the  mysterious  lady. 

It  was  when  the  cigarettes  were  brought  that  he 
remembered  the  gold  case.  Drawing  it  from  his 
pocket,  he  said:  "Oh,  devilish  stupid!  I  forgot — 
brought  your  cigarette  case." 

But  Ananda  disclaimed  the  ownership.  "That's 
not  mine,"  he  said. 

"Rather!  Finnerty  picked  it  up  at  the  broken 
howdah.  It's  the  same  one  you  had  at  Oxford,  I 
think;  I  remember  seeing  it,  anyway." 

Prince  Ananda  took  the  gold  case  and  examined 
it  thoughtfully ;  then  said :  "By  Jove !  I  didn't  know 
I'd  lost  it;  thought  it  was  in  my  shooting  togs. 
Thanks,  old  chap." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  129 

Of  course,  as  it  had  been  found  at  the  howdah, 
it  must  belong  to  the  girl — the  Herr  Boelke  smoked 
cheroots — though  the  prince  did  not  remember  hav- 
ing seen  it  with  her.  But  he  said  nothing  as  to  its 
true  ownership  as  he  slipped  it  into  his  pocket. 

Lord  Victor,  somewhat  puzzled  by  Ananda's  de- 
nial of  ownership  and  then  the  admittance  of  it,  con- 
cluded that  the  prince  was  still  upset  by  the  cropper 
he  had  come  off  the  elephant. 

But  all  down  the  hill,  on  his  return,  this  curious 
incident  kept  recurring  to  him.  He  wasn't  a  man 
to  follow  problems  to  a  conclusion,  however,  and  it 
simply  hung  in  his  mind  as  a  fogging  event.  Just 
as  he  was  falling  asleep,  wondering  why  the  captain 
had  not  returned,  it  suddenly  dawned  upon  him  with 
awakening  force  that  perhaps  the  gold  case  belonged 
to  the  girl.  Of  course  it  did,  he  decided.  The  prince 
had  treated  the  case  as  a  stranger;  his  face  had 
shown  that  he  did  not  recognise  it.  And  yet  Gilfain 
had  seen  it  in  England,  as  he  thought,  in  the  prince's 
possession.  He  fell  asleep,  unequal  to  the  task  of 
wallowing  through  such  a  morass  of  mystery. 


Chapter  XI 

AFTER  Finnerty  and   Swinton  left  Gilfain  in 
the  evening,  the  major  said:     "If  you  don't 
mind,  we'll  stick  to  this  elephant  and  ride  on 
to  the  keddah,  where  I'll  take  the  bell  off  Moti;  I 
won't  take  a  chance  of  having  the  sapphire  stolen 
by  leaving  it  there  all  night.     I  am  worrying  now 
over  letting  Prince  Ananda  have  Moti — I  forgot  all 
about  the  stone,  really." 

"Worked  beautifully  to-day,  didn't  it?"  Swinton 
commented. 

"Yes.  I  fancy  it  saved  the  girl's  life,  at  least;  for 
if  I'd  not  had  Moti  I'd  have  lost  out  on  the  mix-up 
with  Stripes.  I'll  get  a  metal  clapper  to-morrow,  but 
I  doubt  its  answering;  it  will  clang,  and  the  sapphire 
has  a  clinking  note  like  ice  in  a  glass.  And,  while  an 
elephant  hasn't  very  good  eyesight,  he's  got  an  ab- 
normally acute  sense  of  hearing.  Moti  would  twig 
the  slightest  variation  in  the  tone  of  that  bell  that 
she's  probably  worn  for  a  hundred  years  or  more — 
maybe  a  thousand,  for  all  I  know.  There's  a  belief 
among  the  natives  that  a  large  elephant  has  been 
wandering  around  northern  India  for  a  thousand 
years;  it  is  called  the  'Khaki  Hethi' — brown  ele- 
phant." 

Swinton  looked  curiously  at  the  major.  "Do  you 
believe  that?" 

130 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  131 

"Each  year  in  this  wonderland  I  believe  more; 
that  is,  I  accept  more  without  looking  for  proofs. 
It  is  the  easiest  way.  Yes,"  he  added,  in  a  reflective 
way,  "I'll  have  trouble  with  Moti,  I'm  afraid;  ele- 
phants are  the  most  suspicious  creatures  on  earth, 
and  she  is  particularly  distrustful." 

"Don't  bother  about  the  sapphire,"  Swinton  ob- 
jected. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  will.  I've  got  to  take  off  the  bell,  any- 
way, to  find  some  substitute.  If  I  don't,  somebody'll 
poison  Moti  if  they  can't  get  the  sapphire  any  other 
way." 

At  the  keddah  the  two  dismounted  and  walked 
over  to  where  Moti  was  under  her  tamarind  tree. 
Swinton  became  aware  of  the  extraordinary  affec- 
tion the  big  creature  had  for  Finnerty.  She  fondled 
his  cheek  with  the  fingers  of  her  trunk,  and  put  it 
over  his  shoulder,  giving  utterance  to  little  guttural 
chuckles  of  satisfaction,  as  though  she  were  saying: 
"We  fooled  the  tiger,  didn't  we?" 

Finnerty  called  to  a  native  to  bring  him  some  glnie 
cakes — little  white  cookies  of  rice  flour  and  honey 
that  had  been  cooked  in  boiling  ghie,  butter  made 
from  buffalo's  milk — and  when  they  were  brought  he 
gave  the  delighted  elephant  one.  She  smacked  her 
lips  and  winked  at  Finnerty — at  least  to  Swinton  her 
actions  were  thus. 

In  obedience  to  the  mahout  she  knelt  down;  but 
as  Finnerty  unlaced  the  leather  band  that  held  the 
bell  she  cocked  her  ears  apprehensively  and  waved 
her  big  head  back  and  forth  in  nervous  rhythm. 


132  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Patting  her  forehead,  Finnerty  gave  Moti  the  bell, 
and  she  clanged  it  in  expostulation.  Then  he  took 
it  away,  giving  her  a  ghie  cake.  Several  times  he 
repeated  this,  retaining  the  bell  longer  each  time,  and 
always  talking  to  her  in  his  soft,  rich  voice. 

Finally,  telling  the  mahout  to  call  him  if  Moti 
gave  trouble,  he  said:  "We  can  walk  to  the  bunga- 
low from  here;  it  isn't  far,  captain." 

After  dinner,  as  they  sat  on  the  verandah,  Fin- 
nerty's  bearer  appeared,  and,  prefaced  by  a  prayer- 
ful salaam,  said:  "Huzoor,  my  mother  is  sick,  and 
your  slave  asks  that  he  may  stay  with  her  to-night. 
The  sahib's  bed  is  all  prepared,  and  in  the  morning 
I  will  bring  the  tea  and  toast." 

"All  right,"  the  major  said  laconically;  and  as 
the  bearer  went  on  his  mission  of  mercy  he  added: 
"Glad  he's  gone.  I've  a  queer  feeling  of  distrust 
of  that  chap,  though  he's  a  good  boy.  He  never 
took  his  eye  off  that  bell  till  it  was  locked  up  in  my 
box.  The  mahout  told  me  at  the  keddah  that  Rajah 
Ananda  was  particularly  pleased  with  Moti;  had  a 
look  at  the  bell  and  petted  her  when  they  got  to 
the  palace."  Finnerty  laughed,  but  Swanton  cursed 
softly. 

"That  means,"  he  said,  "that  we've  got  to  look 
out." 

"Yes;  can't  use  the  sapphire  on  Moti  again." 

Finnerty  rose,  stretched  his  bulk,  travelled  to  both 
ends  of  the  verandah,  and  looked  about. 

Swinton  was  struck  by  the  extraordinary  quiet  of 
the  big  man's  movements.  He  walked  on  the  balls 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  133 

of  his  feet — the  athlete's  tread — with  the  graceful 
strength  of  a  tiger.  Coming  back,  he  turned  with 
catlike  quickness  and  slipped  into  the  bungalow,  re- 
turning presently,  drawing  his  chair  close  to  Swinton 
as  he  sat  down. 

"You  remember  my  tussle  with  the  Punjabi 
wrestler?" 

Swinton  laughed.     "Rather!" 

"It  wasn't  a  Punjabi — a  European." 

The  captain  gasped  his  astonishment. 

"One  of  Boelke's  imported  Huns."  Finnerty  gave 
a  dry  chuckle.  "Ananda  isn't  the  only  man  that  can 
get  information.  I  knew  there  was  a  Prussian 
wrestler  here,  and  that  he  was  keeping  fit  for  a  bout 
with  somebody;  I  had  a  suspicion  that  somebody  was 
myself.  You  see" — and  the  major  crossed  his  long 
legs — "in  spite  of  all  our  talk  about  moral  force  in 
governing,  physical  superiority  is  what  always  ap- 
peals to  the  governed — Ananda  knows  that  deuced 
well.  Now,  hereabouts  I  have  quite  an  influence 
over  the  natives,  because,  while  I  give  them  a  little 
more  than  justice  in  any  dispute,  I  can  put  their  best 
man  on  his  back." 

"And  Ananda,  not  being  able  to  have  you  re- 
moved, wanted  to  shatter  your  prestige?" 

"He  thought  that  if  I  were  humiliated  in  being 
beaten  by  a  supposed  native  I'd  ask  to  be  trans- 
ferred." 

"Then  it  was  all  a  plot,  the  other  bout  furnishing 
Boelke  a  chance  to  taunt  you?" 

"Yes,  and  clever.     That  final  scene  in  the  'love 


134  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

song'  doesn't  belong  there  at  all — I  mean  where  the 
lover  is  resuscitated  to  challenge  the  gods  to  com- 
bat; that  emanated  in  Ananda's  brain;  and  when  I 
saw  the  second  wrestler  come  out  painted  black  to 
represent  Bhairava,  I  was  convinced  there  was  devil- 
try afloat  and  that  it  was  the  Hun." 

Swinton  laughed.  "He  got  a  surprise,  major, 
though  he  was  a  dirty  fighter.  I  saw  the  toe  hold, 
but  didn't  see  what  happened  to  him." 

"I  gave  him  a  paralysing  something  I  had  learned 
from  a  Jap  in  Calcutta.  If  you  stand  up,  I'll  show 
you." 

Finnerty  clutched  the  captain's  hip,  and,  with  the 
tip  of  a  finger,  gave  a  quick  pressure  on  a  nerve 
in  the  "crest  of  the  ilium"  bone.  The  effect  was  ex- 
traordinary; a  dulling  numbness  shot  with  galvanic 
force  to  the  base  of  Swinton's  skull — needles  pene- 
trated his  stomach. 

"Marvellous!"  the  captain  gasped,  as  he  almost 
collapsed  back  into  his  chair. 

The  major  smiled.  "That  was  a  new  one  on  my 
Hun  friend,  for  I  cracked  him  there  with  the  knuckles 
— almost  brought  the  bone  away." 

"How  many  Huns  has  Boelke  got?"  Swinton 
asked. 

"I  don't  know — three  or  four,  and  they're  all 
service  men;  one  can  tell  the  walk  of  a  Prussian, 
soldier  or  officer.  Nominally,  they  are  archaeologi- 
cal men.  Our  paternal  government  actually  supplied 
the  prince  with  Doctor  Boelke,  for  he  was  in  govern- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  135 

ment  service  in  Madras  Presidency,  exploring  old 
ruins." 

"The  prince  is  subtle." 

"He  is.  All  this  temple  row  is  his.  This  Dhar- 
ama  who  wants  to  put  the  brass  Buddha  in  is  really 
a  half-caste — a  tool  of  the  prince's.  Ananda's  plan 
is  so  full  of  mystery,  neither  I  nor  any  one  else  can 
get  head  or  tail  of  it.  He  doesn't  appear  in  these 
rows,  therefore  the  Buddhists  think  he  is  not  a  big- 
oted Hindu.  So  do  the  Mussulmans ;  and  no  doubt  he 
will  tell  these  two  sects  that  I,  as  the  British  raj 
representative,  fought  against  them.  I  think  he's 
trying  to  get  these  two  fighting  peoples,  the  Mussul- 
mans and  the  Nepalese,  with  him  against  the  British 
if  he  comes  out  as  a  liberator.  He's  planning  a  prop- 
aganda so  big  that  these  three  sects  will  bury  their 
differences  under  a  leader  who  does  not  stand  for 
Brahmanism  alone.  I  believe  he's  almost  insane  on 
this  idea  that  he  can  unite  the  natives,  Mussulmans, 
Hindus,  and  Buddhists,  against  the  British  raj.  He 
bids  for  the  Mussulman  support  by  removing  him- 
self from  that  nest  of  Brahmanism,  the  maharajah's 
palace  in  the  old  fort,  and  secretly  letting  it  be  un- 
derstood the  Brahman's  sway,  with  their  tithe  of  a 
sixth  of  Darpore  revenue,  will  cease  when  he  sits  on 
the  guddi.  There  is  an  Asoka  pillar  in  the  Place  of 
Roses  that  doesn't  belong  there;  he  stole  it  from  a 
temple,  I  fancy.  On  its  polished  sides  is  a  line  of 
weathering  showing  that  it  was  buried  deeper  than 
it  is  now  for  centuries.  He  put  it  there  to  show  the 
Buddhists  that  his  palace  is  in  a  sacred  place — the 


136  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

true  spot  where  Buddha  received  knowledge.  He 
knows  that  his  own  people  will  stick  to  his  rule — 
they  can't  do  anything  else — and  he  hopes  to  win 
the  Buddhists  by  a  crazy  pose  that  he  is  the  new 
Buddha — a  war  Buddha,  ordained  to  the  task  of 
giving  them  liberty." 

"With  German  help?" 

"Yes,  if  the  rumours  of  war  between  Germany 
and  Britain  come  true  and  all  Europe  flames  into  a 
blaze,  you'll  see  Ananda  strike." 

"Gad!  If  we  could  only  nip  him — find  him  with 
the  guns!" 

"That's  what  he's  afraid  of;  that's  why  he  wants 
to  get  rid  of  me." 

"I  have  a  feeling  that  he  wishes  I  had  not  come," 
Swinton  said.  "I  fancy  he  suspects  me.  It's  all  mys- 
tery and  suspicion.  He'll  hear  about  the  Buddhists' 
veneration  for  Burra  Moti  and  you'll  have  her  stolen 
next." 

"Not  without  the  sapphire  in  the  bell — I  won't  put 
it  in  again.  And  I  warn  you,  captain,  that  you'll 
stand  a  good  chance  of  getting  a  Thug's  towel  about 
your  neck,  for  they'll  know  you  have  one  of  the 
sapphires." 

"Yes;  the  servants  have  it  on  their  tongues  now 
— they've  been  spying  on  us,  I  know." 

"That  reminds  me !"  Finnerty  rose,  went  to  his 
room,  opened  his  steel  box,  turned  up  the  low-burn- 
ing lamp,  and  unlaced  the  sapphire  from  the  bell. 
Raising  his  head,  he  caught  a  glint  of  a  shadowy 
something  on  the  window;  it  was  a  shift  of  light, 


LTHE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  137 

as  though  a   face  had  been  suddenly  withdrawn, 

"Damn  it!"  the  major  growled,  locking  the  box. 
"Either  somebody  is  peering  over  my  shoulder  all 
the  time  or  this  mystery  is  getting  on  to  my  nerves." 

He  went  along  to  the  verandah,  and,  putting  the 
sapphire  into  Swinton' s  palm,  hiding  its  transfer- 
ence with  his  own  hand,  said :  "Slip  that  quietly  into 
your  pocket,  and  when  you  get  home  hide  it." 

"I  don't  value  it  much,"  Swinton  answered. 

With  an  uncertain  laugh,  Finnerty  declared :  "I'd 
throw  it  in  the  sea.  Like  the  baboo,  I  think  it's  an 
evil  god.  I  mean,  it  will  be  if  Ananda  gets  the  three 
sapphires  together;  he'll  play  up  their  miracle  power; 
they'll  be  worth  fifty  thousand  sepoys  to  him." 

They  smoked  in  silence  till  Swinton  broke  it:  "I 
found  a  little  notebook  the  murderer  of  Perreira 
dropped  that  evidently  belonged  to  a  British  officer, 
though  leaves  had  been  torn  out  here  and  there  for 
the  purpose  of  destroying  his  identity.  The  man 
himself  didn't  do  this,  for  there  were  entries  in  a 
different  hand  at  the  pages  these  leaves  had  been 
torn  from — sort  of  memos,  bearing  on  the  destroyed 
matter." 

"If  the  identity  were  destroyed,  captain,  how  do 
you  know  an  officer  owned  it?" 

"For  one  thing,  he  had  used  an  army  code,  though 
changed  so  that  I  could  only  make  out  bits  of  it; 
and  in  two  or  three  places  the  other  has  written  the 
word  'captain.'  One  entry  in  code  that  I've  partly 
worked  out  is  significant:  'Darpore,  March.'  And 
that  entry,  I  gather  from  other  words  surrounding 


188  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

it,  was  written  in  England.  The  second  handwrit- 
ing wasn't  Perreira's;  I  have  his  on  that  envelope 
he  addressed  to  me.  The  latter  entries  are  in  a 
woman's  hand." 

Strangely  there  was  no  comment  from  Finnerty. 
He  had  pulled  the  cheroot  box  toward  him  and  was 
lighting  a  fresh  smoke. 

"What  do  you  really  know  about  the  Boelke  girl, 
major?"  the  captain  asked  pointedly,  his  blue-col- 
oured wax  disks  of  eyes  fixed  in  their  placid,  opaque 
way  on  Finnerty,  who,  throwing  away  the  match  he 
had  held  interminably  to  his  cheroot,  turned  to  an- 
swer: "She  popped  into  Darpore  one  day,  and  I 
don't  think  even  Doctor  Boelke,  who  is  supposed  to 
be  her  uncle,  expected  her.  You  know  India,  cap- 
tain— nothing  that  pertains  to  the  sahibs  can  be  kept 
quiet — and  I  hadn't  heard  a  word  of  her  coming. 
Boelke  gave  out  that  she  had  been  living  in  Calcutta 
while  he  was  up  here,  but  I  don't  believe  that;  I  think 
she  came  straight  from  Europe.  I  probably  would 
not  have  met  the  girl — Marie  is  her  name — but  for 
an  accident.  Up  on  an  elephant  path  that  leads  to 
an  elephant  highway,  a  great,  broad  trail,  we  have 
elephant  traps — pits  ten  feet  deep,  covered  over  with 
bamboos,  leaves,  and  earth  that  completely  hide 
their  presence.  One  day  I  was  riding  along  this  trail, 
inspecting,  when  I  heard,  just  beyond  a  sharp  turn 
in  the  path,  a  devil  of  a  row,  and,  driving  my  mount 
forward,  was  just  in  time  to  throw  myself  off,  grab 
that  grey  stallion  by  the  nostrils,  and  choke  him  to  a 
standstill.  He  had  put  a  hoof  through  a  pit  cover- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  139 

Ing  and  gone  to  his  knees,  the  sudden  lurch  throwing 
the  girl  over  his  head;  and  there  she  was,  her  foot 
caught  in  a  stirrup,  being  dragged  in  a  circle  by  the 
crazed  beast,  for  she  was  gamely  hanging  onto  the 
rein." 

"She'd  have  been  trampled  to  death  only  for  you. 
And  to-day  you  saved  her  life  again." 

The  major  gave  a  dry  laugh.  "I  think  she  was  in 
a  temper  over  it,  too." 

"What's  this  station  gossip  about  Ananda's  in- 
tentions?" 

"The  girl  doesn't  seem  like  that;  to  me  she's  the 
greatest  mystery  in  all  this  fogged  thing.  She  speaks 
just  like  an  English  girl." 

"Perhaps  she's  one  of  Ananda's  London  flames, 
and  the  relationship  with  Boelke  is  only  claimed  in  a 
chaperoning  sense.  He  couldn't  marry  her,  having 
a  princess  now." 

"Rajahs  arrange  their  domestic  matters  to  suit 
themselves.  Much  can  be  done  with  a  pinch  of 
datura,  or  a  little  cobra  venom  collected  in  a  piece 
of  raw  meat  that  has  been  put  with  a  cobra  in  a  pot 
that  sits  over  a  slow  fire.  But  if  Ananda  tries  that 

game You  saw  his  brother-in-law,  Darna 

Singh?" 

Swinton  nodded.     "A  Rajput!" 

"Yes.  Well,  Darna  Singh  would  stick  a  knife  in 
the  prince,  knowing  that  he  would  become  regent  till 
Ananda's  little  son  came  of  age;  that  is,  of  course, 
after  the  maharajah  had  been  settled,  for  in  spite  of 
all  his  magnificent  appearance  he's  just  a  shell — the 


140  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

usual  thing,  brandy  in  champagne  and  all  the  rest 
of  it." 

The  trembling  whistle  of  a  small  owl  coming  from 
behind  the  bungalow  caused  Finnerty  to  turn  his 
head  and  listen  intently.  He  rose  and  slipped  along 
the  wall  to  the  end  rail,  where  he  stood  silently  for 
two  minutes.  Then  he  dropped  over  the  rail  and 
came  back  to  Swinton  from  the  other  end,  having 
circled  the  bungalow. 

"An  owl,  wasn't  it?"  the  captain  asked. 

"No;  it  was  the  call  of  an  owl  badly  done  by  a 
native.  There's  some  game  on." 

As  he  ceased  speaking,  there  came  floating  up  the 
road  from  a  mango  thicket  the  dreary,  monotonous 
"tonk,  tonk,  tonk,  tonk!"  of  the  little,  green-coated 
coppersmith  bird.  It  sounded  as  if  some  one  tapped 
on  a  hollow  pipe. 

"What  about  that?  Is  that  a  bird?"  Swinton  whis- 
pered. 

"A  two-legged  bird."  They  both  laughed  softly. 
"I  mean  a  native.  If  it  had  been  a  coppersmith 
bird,  he  wouldn't  have  stopped  at  four  notes;  he'd 
have  kept  it  up.  That  fellow  is  tapping  off  on  a  piece 
of  metal  an  answer  to  the  owl." 

"Here  comes  my  tom-tom,"  Swinton  said,  as  a 
groom,  leading  a  horse  in  the  shafts  of  a  dogcart, 
appeared,  coming  up  the  road.  Rising,  he  touched 
Finnerty  on  the  arm  and  went  into  the  bungalow, 
where,  taking  the  sapphire  from  his  pocket,  he  said : 
"I  wish  you'd  put  this  in  your  box  for  to-night;  I've 


"CHEAT  AS  WAS  THE  ELEPHANT'S  STRENGTH,  SHE  COULD  NOT  BREAK 
THE  PYTHON'S  DEADLY  CLASP." 


See  p-i 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

got  a  curious,  flabby  streak  of  depression — as  if  I'd 
lose  the  thing." 

"Have  a  peg — there's  the  Scotch  on  the  table — 
while  I  put  it  away,"  and  the  major  darted  into  his 
room. 

"That's  not  my  horse;  I've  been  driving  a  chest- 
nut," Swinton  exclaimed,  when  they  stood  beside  a 
cow-hocked,  hog-maned  bay  whose  eyes  showed  an 
evil  spread  of  white. 

"Yes,  sahib;  other  pony  going  lame,"  the  groom 
explained. 

"One  of  those  devilish,  fiddle-headed  Cabul  ponies 
— less  brains  than  a  coolie,"  Finnerty  growled. 
"You'll  have  to  watch  him  going  downhill,  or  he'll 
put  you  over  the  kud;  I  never  saw  one  yet  that 
wouldn't  shy  at  a  shadow."  He  stood  watching  the 
scuttling  first  rush  of  the  horse,  the  groom  madly 
scrambling  to  the  back  seat,  till  they  had  vanished 
around  a  corner. 

The  watchman,  having  heard  his  master's  guest  de- 
part, now  came  from  the  servants'  quarters  to  place 
his  charpoy  beside  the  door  for  his  nightly  sleep. 
Throwing  away  his  cheroot  and  taking  a  loaded 
malacca  cane  from  a  rack,  Finnerty  said:  "Gutra, 
there  are  rogues  about;  sit  you  in  my  room  while 
I  make  a  search." 

Reaching  the  mango  thicket,  he  stood  behind  a 
tree  from  where  his  eye  could  command  the  moon- 
lighted compound  that  surrounded  the  bungalow.  At 
that  instant  from  down  the  road  floated  up  the  call 
of  a  voice;  there  was  a  crash,  and  the  high-pitched 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

scream  of  a  horse  in  terror.  Finnerty  was  off ;  round- 
ing a  turn,  he  came  head  on  into  a  fleeing  syce,  who 
was  knocked  flat,  to  lie  there,  crying:  "Oh,  my  lord, 
the  sahib  is  eaten  by  a  tiger!" 

Finnerty  grabbed  the  native  and  yanked  him  to  his 
feet.  "Stop  the  lies!  Tell  me  what's  happened! 
Where  is  the  sahib?" 

"Have  mercy  on  me,  a  poor  man,  huzoor;  the 
tiger  sprang  from  the  jungle  and  took  the  sahib  in 
his  mouth  like  a  leg  of  a  chicken  and  went  back  into 
the  jungle.  I  tride  to  frighten  the  tiger  away  by 
beating  him  with  my  hands;  then  I  am  running  to 
tell  you,  my  lord." 

But  Finnerty  was  speeding  on  before  the  man  had 
finished. 

Where  the  road  swept  sharply  around  the  edge 
of  a  cliff,  Finnerty  almost  stepped  on  Swinton,  lying 
quite  still  beside  a  white  boulder  on  the  road.  With 
a  groan,  he  knelt  beside  the  captain,  apprehension, 
numbing  his  brain ;  but  the  latter's  heart  was  beating 
with  the  even  pulsation  of  a  perfect  motor.  He 
tipped  back  an  eyelid;  the  dull  blue  eyes  were  as  if 
their  owner  slept.  He  ran  his  fingers  along  the 
scalp,  and  just  behind  an  ear  found  a  soft,  puffy 
lump,  but  no  blood. 

"Good  old  chap !  You've  just  got  a  concussion 
— that's  all,"  welled  in  relief  from  the  Irishman. 

Some  chafing  of  the  hands,  a  little  pumping  of  the 
lungs  by  lifting  the  torso  gently  up  and  down,  and, 
with  preliminary,  spasmodic  jerks,  Swinton  sat  up, 
rubbed  his  eyes,  looked  at  Finnerty,  and  asked: 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  143 

"What  time  is  it?  I — I've  been  asleep "  Then, 

memory  coming  faster  than  his  hesitating  words,  he 
rose  to  his  feet,  saying:  "The  pony  and  cart  went 
over  the  kud." 

"That  Cabuli  donkey  thought  the  boulder  a 
crouching  wolf  and  shied,  eh?  The  syce  said  a  tiger 
had  eaten  you." 

"He  never  saw  the  chita.  Back  around  the  turn 
I  felt  the  dogcart  tip  up  and  knew  the  syce  had 
jumped  down,  as  I  thought,  to  run  ahead  to  see  that 
the  road  was  clear  at  this  narrow  turn.  When  I  saw 
the  boulder  I  looked  around  for  him  to  take  the 
pony's  head,  but  he  had  vanished.  As  I  walked  the 
Cabuli  up  to  the  boulder,  he  suddenly  went  crazy 
with  fright,  and  at  that  instant,  with  a  snarling  rasp, 
a  chita  shot  from  the  bank  just  above  our  heads 
there,  and,  lighting  on  my  pony's  back,  carried  him 
over,  the  sudden  whirl  of  the  cart  pitching  me  on 
my  head." 

"And  you  went  out?" 

"No,  I  didn't;  not  just  then.  I  staggered  to  my 
feet — I  remember  that  distinctly — and  something  hit 
me.  That  time  I  did  go  out." 

"Good  heavens — a  plant !  The  syce,  knowing  what 
was  going  to  happen,  funked  it  and  bolted — feared 
the  leopard  might  make  a  mistake  in  his  man." 

"Looks  like  it." 

"Then,  as  you  didn't  go  over  the  bank,  somebody 
tapped  you  from  behind,  thinking  you  had  the  sap- 
phire in  your  pocket.  We'll  go  back  to  the  bunga- 
low and  come  out  in  the  morning  and  have  a  look." 


144  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

As  they  tramped  along,  Finnerty  remarked:  "You 
said  a  hunting  chita.  There  are  none  of  them  in 
these  jungles;  it  must  have  been  a  leopard." 

"No ;  I  could  see  quite  distinctly  in  the  moonlight 
his  upstanding,  feathered  ears  and  his  long,  lank 
body.  I  had  a  year  at  Jhodpore,  and  went  out  after 
antelope  many  a  time  with  a  hunting  chita  chained 
on  a  cart  till  we  got  within  striking  distance." 

"Gad!  That's  why  the  brute  took  the  pony  for 
it — force  of  habit.  And  they  sent  that  fool  Cabuli 
— they  knew  he'd  go  crazy  and  topple  over  the  bank. 
The  stone  was  placed  in  the  road,  too." 

As  they  went  up  on  the  verandah,  Finnerty  turned 
sharply,  and,  putting  his  hand  on  Swinton's  arm,  said: 
"Gad,  man!  That's  why  Ananda  asked  Lord  Vic- 
tor to  dinner  and  left  you  out  of  it;  he  knew  you'd 
dine  with  me  here.  They  either  meant  to  put  you 
out  of  action  or  got  to  know  you  owned  the  sap- 
phire that  was  used  on  Moti  to-day  and  hoped  to 
get  it  off  your  body." 

"Looks  rather  fishy,  I  must  say.  The  prince 
would  not  take  a  chance  on  an  inquiry  over  the  death 
of  an  officer  unless,  as  in  this  case,  it  could  not  be 
taken  for  anything  but  an  accident." 

"The  chita  was  his;  he's  got  a  couple  in  his  zoo 
— well-trained  hunting  chitas  the  Nawab  of  Chackla 
gave  him — and  there  are  no  wild  ones  about.  It  was 
a  lucky  touch  of  superstition  that  prompted  you  to 
have  me  put  the  sapphire  back  in  my  box;  I  saw  a 
face  at  my  window  when  I  took  it  from  the  bell  to 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  145 

give  you.  But  we  sold  them  out.  How's  your 
head?" 

"It  aches.  Think  I'd  like  to  turn  in,  if  you've 
got  a  charpoy  for  me." 

Finnerty  wakened  from  a  sound  sleep  with  a  sense 
of  alarm  in  his  mind,  drowsily  associating  this  with 
the  sequel  of  the  frightened  horse;  then,  coming 
wider  awake,  he  realised  that  he  was  in  bed  and 
there  was  something  unusual  in  the  room.  He  was 
facing  the  wall,  and  a  slight  noise  came  over  his 
shoulder  from  the  table  on  which  was  his  cash  box. 
A  mouse,  a  snake,  even  a  lizard,  of  which  there  were 
plenty  in  the  bungalow,  would  make  as  much  noise. 
Turning  his  head  and  body  with  a  caution  bred  of 
the  solemn  night  hour,  his  bed  creaked  as  the  weight 
of  his  big  frame  changed.  By  the  table  there  was 
the  distinct  click  of  something  against  tin,  followed 
by  the  swish  of  a  body  moving  swiftly  toward  the 
door.  Finnerty  sprang  from  the  bed  with  a  cry  of 
"Thief!  Thief!"  meant  to  arouse  the  watchman. 
Just  ahead  of  him,  through  the  living  room,  a  man 
fled,  and  out  onto  the  verandah.  Following,  with  a 
rush  like  a  bull  in  the  night  gloom,  Finnerty's  foot 
caught  in  the  watchman's  charpoy,  which  had  been 
pulled  across  the  door,  and  he  came  down,  the  force 
of  his  catapult  fall  carrying  him  to  the  steps,  where 
his  outstretched  hand  was  cut  by  broken  glass.  The 
thief  having  placed  the  charpoy  where  it  was,  had 
taken  it  in  his  stride,  vaulted  the  verandah  rail, 
avoiding  the  steps,  whipped  around  the  corner  of  the 
bungalow,  and  disappeared. 


146  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Scrambling  to  his  feet,  Finnerty  was  just  in  time 
to  throw  his  arms  around  Swinton  and  bring  him  to 
an  expostulating  standstill. 

"Glass!"  Finnerty  panted.  "This  way!"  He 
darted  to  the  wall  of  the  bungalow,  wrenched  down 
two  hog  spears  that  were  crossed  below  a  boar's 
head,  and,  handing  one  to  Captain  Swinton,  sprang 
over  the  end  rail  of  the  verandah,  followed  by  the 
latter.  They  were  just  in  time  to  see  the  brown 
figure  of  an  all  but  naked  native  flitting  like  a  shadow 
in  the  moonlight  through  a  narrow  gateway  in  the 
compound  wall.  From  the  jungle  beyond  the  other 
wall  came  the  clamorous  voice  of  a  native,  calling 
for  help;  but  Finnerty  swung  toward  the  gate,  say- 
ing: "That's  a  decoy  call  to  save  the  thief.  He's 
gone  this  way." 

As  the  two  men,  racing,  passed  from  the  com- 
pound, they  swung  into  a  native  jungle  path  that  led 
off  toward  the  hills.  There  was  little  sense  in  their 
pursuit;  it  was  purely  the  fighting  instinct — Finnerry's 
Irish  was  up.  A  hundred  yards  along  the  path, 
as  they  raced  through  a  growth  of  bamboos,  some- 
thing happened  that  by  the  merest  chance  did  not 
spill  one  of  their  lives.  Finnerty  overshot  a  noose 
that  was  pegged  out  on  the  path,  but  Swinton's  foot 
went  into  it,  tipping  free  a  green  bamboo,  four  inches 
thick,  that  swept  the  path  waist-high,  catching  Fin- 
nerty before  it  had  gained  momentum,  his  retarding 
bulk  saving  the  captain  from  a  broken  spine.  As  it 
was,  he,  too,  was  swept  off  his  feet. 

Picking  himself  up,  the  major  said:  "If  I  had  put 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  147 

my  foot  in  that  noose  I'd  been  cut  in  two.  It's  the 
old  hillman's  tiger  trap — only  there's  no  spear  fas- 
tened to  the  bamboo.  We  can  go  back  now;  the 
thief  is  pretty  well  on  his  way  to  Nepal." 

A  cry  of  terror  came  from  up  the  path,  followed 
by  silence. 

"Something  has  happened  the  thief,"  Finnerty 
said.  "Come  on,  captain!" 

Again  they  hurried  along,  but  warily  now.  Where 
a  wax-leafed  wild  mango  blanked  the  moonlight  from 
their  path,  Finnerty's  foot  caught  in  a  soft  something 
that,  as  it  rolled  from  the  thrust,  gleamed  white.  He 
sprang  to  one  side;  it  was  a  blooded  body — either 
a  big  snake  or  a  man.  Thus  does  the  mind  of  a  man 
of  the  open  work  with  quick  certainty. 

The  wind  shifted  a  long  limb  of  the  mango  and 
a  moon  shaft  fell  upon  the  face  of  Baboo  Lall  Mo- 
hun  Dass.  Beside  him,  sprawled  face  down,  the 
body  of  a  native,  naked  but  for  a  loin  cloth.  Cau- 
tiously Finnerty  touched  this  with  his  spear.  There 
was  no  movement;  even  the  baboo  lay  as  one  dead. 
The  major's  spearhead  clicked  against  something  on 
the  native's  back,  and,  reaching  down,  he  found  the 
handle  of  a  knife,  its  blade  driven  to  the  hilt. 

Finnerty  held  the  knife  in  the  moonlight  toward 
Swinton,  saying:  "It's  the  'Happy  Despatch,'  a  little 
knife  the  Nepal  hillmen  carry  for  the  last  thrust—' 
generally  for  themselves  when  they're  cornered." 

"It  has  a  jade  handle,"  Swinton  added.  "It's  an 
exact  duplicate  of  the  knife  they  found  in  Akka's 
back  at  the  bottom  of  the  ravine  in  Simla." 


148  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"This  is  the  thief  we've  chased,"  Finnerty  de- 
clared, as  he  turned  the  body  over;  "but  the  sap- 
phire is  not  in  his  loin  cloth." 

Swinton  was  kneeling  beside  Baboo  Dass.  "This 
chap  is  not  dead,"  he  said;  "he's  had  a  blow  on  the 
head." 

"Search  him  for  the  sapphire,"  Finnerty  called 
from  where  he  was  examining  a  curious  network  of 
vines  plaited  through  some  overhanging  bamboos. 
This  formed  a  perfect  cul-de-sac  into  which  perhaps 
the  thief  had  run  and  then  been  stabbed  by  some 
one  in  waiting. 

"It  isn't  on  the  baboo,"  Swinton  announced,  "and 
he's  coming  to.  I  fancy  the  man  that  left  the  knife 
sticking  in  the  first  thief  is  thief  number  two;  must 
be  a  kind  of  religious  quid  pro  quo,  this  exchange  of 
a  jade-handled  knife  for  the  sapphire." 

Baboo  Dass  now  sat  up ;  and,  returning  conscious- 
ness picturing  the  forms  of  Swinton  and  Finnerty, 
remembrance  brought  back  the  assault,  and  he  yelled 
in  terror,  crying:  "Spare  me — spare  my  life!  Take 
the  sapphire!" 

"Don't  be  frightened,  baboo,"  Swinton  soothed. 
"The  man  who  struck  you  is  gone." 

Realising  who  his  rescuers  were,  Baboo  Dass 
gave  way  to  tears  of  relief,  and  in  this  momentary 
abstraction  framed  an  alibi.  "Kind  masters,"  he  said 
presently,  "I  am  coming  by  the  path  to  your  bunga- 
low for  purpose  of  beseeching  favour,  and  am  hear- 
ing too  much  strife — loud  cry  of  'Thief!'  also  pro- 
fane expostulation  in  Hindustani  word  of  hell.  Here 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  149 

two  men  is  fight,  and  I  am  foolish  fellow  to  take  up 
arms  for  peace.  Oh,  my  master,  one  villain  is  smote 
me  and  I  swoon." 

"You're  a  fine  liar,  baboo,"  Finnerty  declared 
crisply. 

"No,  master,  not " 

"Shut  up !  I  mean,  tell  me  why  you  sent  this  thief, 
who  is  dead,  to  steal  the  sapphire?" 

"Not  inciting  to  theft,  sar;  this  thief  is  himself 
steal  the  sapphire." 

"How  do  you  know  he  stole  a  sapphire?"  Swinton 
asked  quietly. 

Baboo  Dass  gasped.  Perhaps  his  mind  was  still 
rather  confused  from  the  blow — he  had  been  trapped 
so  easily. 

"Perhaps  there  was  no  other,"  Finnerty  suggested 
seductively.  "I  believe  you  murdered  this  man, 
baboo;  I  fear  you'll  swing  for  it." 

This  was  too  much.  "Oh,  my  master,"  he  pleaded, 
"do  not  take  action  in  the  courts  against  me  for 
felonious  assault  or  otherwise.  I,  too,  am  victim  of 
assault  and  battery  when  this  poor  mans  is  slain.  I 
will  tell,  sars,  why  I  have  arrange  to  take  back  my 
sapphire  in  this  manner." 

"Your  sapphire?"  Finnerty  questioned. 

"Yes,  sar — the  sapphire  that  I  am  suffer  the  head 
shave  for.  Good  authority  is  tell  me  it  is  in  the  bell 
on  the  elephant  when  Rajah  Ananda  is  go  to  the 
palace." 

"Phe-e-ew !"  Finnerty  whistled.     "I  see!     Mister 


150  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Rajah,  eh?  Did  he  tell  you  that  I  had  the  sapphire 
you  lost?" 

"Please,  sar,  I  am  poor  man;  let  the  good  author- 
ity be  incognito." 

"Why  didn't  you  come  and  ask  for  the  sapphire?" 
Finnerty  questioned. 

"Master,  if  I  come  and  say  you  have  the  sap- 
phire has  been  looted  from  me  with  head  shave,  that 
is  not  polite — you  are  shove  me  with  foot  from  ve- 
randah because  of  accusation." 

"Listen,  baboo!"  the  major  said,  not  unkindly. 
"Prince  Ananda  has  duped  you.  He  made  you  be- 
lieve that  I  had  your  sapphire,  which  is  a  lie,  be- 
cause it  was  another.  Then  he  persuaded  you  to 
hire  a  thief  to  steal  it " 

"Not  persuading,  sahib ;  he  make  threats.  I  will 
lose  my  place  with  Hamilton  Company,  also  the 
Marwari  woman  who  plotted  to  me  the  head  shave 
is  murdered,  and  I  am  fearful  of  knife." 

"A  fine  mess  of  things,  now,  major,"  Swinton  ob- 
served. "Looks  to  me  as  if  that  woman  stole  Baboo 
Dass'  sapphire  for  the  priests;  then  Ananda  had 
her  murdered,  recovered  the  jewel,  and  put  our 
friend,  here,  up  to  stealing  this  last  one ;  that  would 
give  him  the  three." 

"I  think  you're  right,  captain."  Finnerty  turned 
to  the  baboo.  "You  bribed  this  thief  to  steal  the 
stone  out  of  my  box,  some  servant  having  told  you 
it  was  there,  and  you  waited  on  the  trail  here  for 
him." 

Finnerty  had  forgotten  about  the  bamboo  trap; 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  151 

now  it  came  to  his  memory  with  angering  force. 
"You  black  hound !"  he  stormed.  "You  were  a  party 
to  putting  up  that  bamboo  trap  that  might  have 
killed  usl" 

But  the  baboo  denied  all  knowledge  of  ways  and 
means;  the  thief  had  represented  himself  as  a  man 
quite  capable  of  arranging  all  details — all  Baboo 
Dass  was  to  do  was  hand  over  twenty  rupees  when 
the  thief  delivered  the  sapphire  on  the  jungle  path. 
At  any  rate,  he  was  now  very  dead  and  could  not 
dispute  this  story. 

"Sahib,  I  am  too  much  afraid;  this  evil  jewel  is 
bring  too  much  trouble.  I  will  go  back  to  Calcutta. 
Please,  sar,  forgive  because  I  am  too  polite  to  make 
demand  for  the  sapphire." 

Finnerty  pondered  for  a  minute.  There  was  ab- 
solutely nothing  further  to  do  in  the  matter.  No 
doubt  a  temple  man  had  got  Swinton's  sapphire  now 
and  they  probably  would  never  see  it  again. 

He  turned  to  the  native.  "I  think  you  had  bet- 
ter go  away,  baboo;  Darpore  is  not  a  healthy  place 
for  men  who  cross  our  gentle  friend  up  on  the  hill." 

"Thank  you,  kind  gentlemans.  Please,  if  I  can 
saunter  to  the  road  with  the  sahibs  because  of  jungle 
terrors." 

Eager  in  pursuit,  the  men  had  run  blithely  over 
the  ground  in  their  bare  feet;  now  they  hobbled 
back,  discussing  the  extraordinarily  complete  plans 
the  thief  had  made  beforehand.  The  broken  glass 
on  the  step  was  an  old  dodge,  but  the  utilisation  of  a 
tiger  trap  to  kill  a  pursuer  was  a  new  one. 


152  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

While  they  had  been  away,  the  servant  had  found 
Gutra,  securely  bound  and  gagged,  lying  in  the  com- 
pound, where  he  had  been  carried.  He  had  been 
wakened,  he  declared,  by  the  thrusting  of  a  cloth  into 
his  mouth,  but  was  unable  to  give  an  alarm. 

As  Finnerty  gazed  ruefully  into  his  empty  box, 
he  said:  "I  knew  the  thief  was  after  the  sapphire; 
that's  why  I  raced  to  get  him.  Too  devilish  bad, 
captain!" 

"I  don't  understand  why  he  took  a  chance  of  open- 
ing the  box  here ;  the  usual  way  is  to  take  it  to  the 
jungle  and  rifle  it  there,"  Swinton  said. 

"Oh,  I  was  clever,"  Finnerty  laughed.  "See,  I 
put  four  screw  nails  through  the  bottom  of  the  box 
into  this  heavy  table,  knowing  their  ways,  and  some- 
body who  knew  all  about  that  and  had  opportunity 
to  fit  a  key  did  the  job,  or  helped.  The  watchman 
hadn't  anything  to  do  with  it.  They're  all  thieves, 
but  they  won't  steal  from  their  own  masters  or  vil- 
lage." 

Finnerty  had  the  broken  glass  that  littered  the 
steps  brought  in,  saying,  as  he  picked  out  a  gold- 
draped  bottle  neck:  "A  man  is  known  by  the  bottle 
he  drinks  from.  The  villagers  don't  drink  cham- 
pagne to  any  large  extent,  and  there  are  several 
pieces  of  this  caste.  Here's  half  a  bottle  that  once 
held  Exshaw's  Best  Brandy,  such  as  rajahs  put  in  a 
glass  of  champagne  to  give  it  nip.  Here's  a  piece  of 
a  soda-water  bottle  stamped  'Thompson,  Calcutta,' 
and  everybody  in  Darpore  but  Ananda  drinks  up- 
country  stuff." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  153 

"Which  means,"  Swinton  summed  up,  "that  the 
glass  is  from  Ananda's  place — he  outfitted  the  thief." 

Finnerty  replaced  the  glass  in  the  basket,  putting 
it  under  the  table;  then,  as  he  faced  about,  he  saw 
that  Swinton,  leaning  back  against  the  pillow,  was 
sound  asleep.  He  slipped  into  a  warm  dressing- 
gown,  turned  out  the  light,  left  the  room  noiselessly, 
and  curled  up  in  an  armchair  on  the  verandah,  mut- 
tering: "It  must  be  near  morning;  it  would  be  a  sin 
to  disturb  him." 


Chapter  XII 

FINNERTY  had  slept  an  hour  when  he  was 
wakened  by  the  raucous  voice  of  a  peacock 
greeting  dawn  with  his  unpleasant  call  from 
high  up  in  the  sal  forest.  A  cold  grey  pallor  was 
creeping  into  the  eastern  sky  as  the  major,  still  feel- 
ing the  holding  lethargy  of  the  disturbed  night,  closed 
his  eyes  for  a  little  more  of  oblivion.  But  Life, 
clamorous,  vociferous,  peopling  the  hills,  the  trees, 
the  plain,  sent  forth  its  myriad  acclaim,  as  a  warm- 
ing flush  swept  with  eager  haste  up  the  vaulted  dome, 
flung  from  a  molten  ball  that  topped  the  forest  line 
with  amazing  speed. 

A  flock  of  parrakeets  swooped  like  swallows 
through  the  air  with  high-pitched  cries;  from  the 
feathered  foliage  of  a  tamarind  came  the  monoto- 
nous drool,  "Ko-el — ko-el — ko-el — ke-e-e-e-el!"  of 
the  koel  bird,  harbinger  of  the  "hot  spell;"  a  crow, 
nesting  in  a  banyan,  rose  from  her  eggs,  and,  with  a 
frightened  cry,  fled  through  the  air  as  a  hawk  cuckoo 
swooped  with  shrill  whistle  as  if  to  strike.  The 
cuckoo,  dumping  from  the  nest  a  couple  of  the  crow's 
white  eggs,  settled  down  to  deposit  her  own  embryo 
chick.  From  the  kennels  came  the  joyous  bark  of 
Rampore  hounds,  and  from  a  native  village  filtered 
up  the  yapping  cries  of  pariah  dogs. 

i54 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  155 

Far  up  the  road  that  wound  past  the  bungalow 
sounded  the  squealing  skirl  of  wooden  axles  in 
wooden  wheels,  and  the  cries  of  the  bullock  driver, 
"Dut,  dut,  dut,  D owlet!  Dut,  dut — chelao  Rajah!" 
followed  by  the  curious  noise  that  the  driver  made 
with  his  lips  while  he  twisted  the  tails  of  his  bul- 
locks to  urge  them  on. 

Finnerty  thought  of  the  stone  on  the  road,  and, 
passing  into  the  bungalow,  wakened  Swinton. 
"Sorry,  old  boy,  but  we'd  better  have  a  look  at  that 
stone — there  are  carts  coming  down  the  hill." 

"Bless  me!  Almost  dropped  off  to  sleep,  I'm 
afraid!"  and  the  captain  sat  up. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  scene  of  Swinton's  ad- 
venture, Finnerty,  peering  over  the  embankment, 
said:  "The  dogcart  is  hung  up  in  a  tree  halfway 
down.  I  expect  you'll  find  that  chita  at  the  bottom, 
kicked  to  death  by  the  Cabuli." 

Swinton,  indicating  an  abrasion  on  the  boulder 
that  might  have  been  left  by  the  iron  tire  of  a  wheel, 
said:  "My  cart  didn't  strike  this,  and  there  are  no 
other  iron-wheel  marks  on  the  road;  just  part  of  this 
beastly  plot — to  be  used  as  evidence  that  the  stone 
put  me  over  the  bank." 

"They  even  rolled  the  boulder  down  to  leave  an 
accidental  trail.  There's  not  a  footprint  of  a  native, 
though.  Hello,  by  Jove !"  Finnerty  was  examining 
two  bamboos  growing  from  the  bank  above  the  road. 
"See  that?"  and  his  finger  lay  on  an  encircling  mark 
where  a  strap  had  worn  a  smooth  little  gutter  in  the 
bamboo  shell  two  feet  from  the  ground.  Both  bam- 


156  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

boos,  standing  four  feet  apart,  showed  this  line  of 
friction.  "Here's  where  they  held  the  chita  in  leash, 
and,  when  you  arrived,  took  off  his  hood  and  slipped 
the  straps.  We'll  just  roll  that  boulder  off  the  road 
and  go  back  to  breakfast." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  the  major  exclaimed,  as,  midway 
of  their  breakfast,  there  came  the  angry  trumpeting 
of  an  elephant.  "That's  Moti,  and  she  wants  her 
bell.  She's  an  ugly  devil  when  she  starts ;  but,  while 
I  don't  mind  losing  some  sleep,  I  must  eat." 

"The  devil  of  it  is  that  all  this  circumstantial  evi- 
dence we're  gathering  isn't  worth  a  rap  so  far  as  the 
real  issue  is  concerned,"  the  captain  said  from  the 
depths  of  a  brown  study. 

"I  understand,"  Finnerty  answered.  "It  proves 
who  is  trying  to  get  rid  of  us,  but  the  government 
is  not  interested  in  our  private  affairs — it  wants  to 
check  Ananda's  state  intrigues." 

"And  also  we  won't  mention  any  of  these  things 
to  our  young  friend  whom  I  hear  outside,"  Swinton 
added,  as  the  voice  of  Lord  Victor  superseded  the 
beat  of  hoofs  on  the  road. 

As  he  swung  into  the  breakfast  room,  Gilfain  ex- 
plained cheerily:  "Thought  I'd  ride  around  this  way 
to  see  what  had  happened;  my  bearer  heard  in  the 
bazaar  Swinton  had  been  eaten  by  a  tiger — but  you 
weren't,  old  top,  were  you?" 

"My  dogcart  went  wrong,"  Swinton  answered,  "so 
I  stayed  with  the  major." 

"What  made  me  think  something  might  have  hap- 
pened was  that  the  bally  forest  here  is  pretty  well 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  157 

impregnated  with  leopards  and  things — one  of  An- 
anda's  hunting  chitas  escaped  last  evening  and  he  was 
worrying  about  it  at  dinner;  says  he's  a  treacherous 
brute,  has  turned  sour  on  his  work,  and  is  as  liable 
to  spring  on  a  man  as  on  a  pronghorn." 

"Was  the  prince  anxious  about  me  in  particular?" 
the  captain  asked  innocently. 

"Oh,  no;  he  didn't  say  anything,  at  least." 

Finnerty  sprang  to  his  feet  as  a  big  gong  boomed 
a  tattoo  over  at  the  keddah.  "Trouble!"  he  ejacu- 
lated. "Elephant  on  the  rampage — likely  Moti." 

The  bungalow  buzzed  like  a  hive  of  disturbed  bees. 
A  bearer  came  with  Finnerty's  helmet  and  a  leather 
belt  in  which  hung  a  .45  Webley  revolver;  a  saddled 
horse  swung  around  the  bungalow,  led  by  a  running 
syce. 

The  major  turned  to  Swinton.     "Like  to  go?" 

"Rather!" 

Finnerty  sprang  down  the  steps,  caught  the  bridle 
rein,  and  said:  "Bring  Akbar  for  the  sahib,  quick!" 

Soon  a  bay  Arab  was  brought  by  his  own  syce. 
"Come  on,  Gilfain,  and  see  the  sport  I"  And  Fin- 
nerty swung  to  the  saddle.  "It's  not  Far,-  but  the 
rule  when  the  alarm  gong  sounds  is  that  my  horse 
is  brought;  one  never  knows  how  far  he  may  go  be- 
fore he  comes  back."  To  the  bearer  he  added: 
"Bring  my  8-bore  and  plenty  of  ball  cartridges  to  the 
keddah." 

When  they  arrived  at  the  elephant  lines,  the  na- 
tives were  in  a  fever  of  unrest.  Mahadua  had  an- 
swered the  gong  summons  and  was  waiting,  his  small, 


158  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

wizened  face  carrying  myriad  wrinkles  of  excited 
interest.  Moti's  mahout  was  squatted  at  the  tam- 
arind to  which  she  had  been  chained,  the  broken 
chain  in  his  lap  wet  from  tears  that  were  streaming 
down  the  old  fellow's  cheeks. 

"Look  you,  sahib!"  he  cried.  "The  chain  has 
been  cut  with  a  file." 

"Where  is  Moti?"  Finnerty  queried. 

"She  is  down  in  the  cane,"  a  native  answered;  "I 
have  just  come  from  there." 

"She  has  gone  up  into  the  sal  forest,"  another 
maintained.  "I  was  coming  u^wn  the  hill  and  had 
to  flee  from  the  path,  for  she  is  must." 

"Huzoor,  the  elephant  has  stripped  the  roof  from 
my  house,"  a  third,  a  native  from  Picklapara  vil- 
lage, declared.  "All  the  village  has  been  laid  flat 
and  a  hundred  people  killed.  Will  the  sircar  pay 
me  for  the  loss  of  my  house,  for  surely  it  is  a  gov- 
ernment elephant  and  we  are  poor  people?" 

Finnerty  turned  to  the  shikari.  "Mahadua,  which 
way  has  Moti  gone?" 

"These  men  are  all  liars,  sahib — it  is  their  man- 
ner of  speech.  Moti  went  near  to  Picklapara  and 
the  people  all  ran  away;  but  she  is  now  up  on  the 
hills." 

The  mahout  stopped  his  droning  lament  long 
enough  to  say:  "Sahib,  Moti  is  not  to  be  blamed, 
for  she  is  drunk;  she  knows  not  where  evil  begins, 
because  a  man  came  in  the  night  and  gave  her  a 
ball  of  bhang  wrapped  up  in  sweets." 

"We've  got  to  capture  the  old  girl  before  she 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  159 

kills  some  natives,"  Finnerty  declared.  "If  you 
chaps  don't  mind  a  wait,  I'll  get  things  ready  and 
you'll  see  better  sport  than  killing  something." 

First  the  major  had  some  "foot  tacks"  brought. 
They  were  sharp-pointed  steel  things  with  a  broad 
base,  looking  like  enormous  carpet  tacks.  Placed 
on  the  path,  if  Moti  stepped  on  one  she  would 
probably  come  in  to  the  keddah  to  have  her  foot 
dressed.  Four  Moormen,  natives  of  the  Ceylon 
hills,  were  selected.  These  men  were  entitled  to  be 
called  panakhans,  for  each  one  had  noosed  by  the 
leg  a  wild  elephant  that  had  been  captured,  and  very 
lithe  and  brave  they  looked  as  they  stepped  out,  a 
rawhide  noose  over  the  shoulder  of  each.  A  small 
army  of  assistants  were  also  assembled,  and  Raj 
Bahadar,  a  huge  bull  elephant. 

Finnerty  sent  the  men  and  Raj  Bahadar  on  ahead, 
saying  that  Moti  might  perhaps  make  up  to  the  bull 
and  not  clear  off  to  the  deep  jungle.  Giving  them  a 
start  of  fifteen  minutes,  the  three  sahibs,  Mahadua, 
and  a  man  to  carry  the  major's  8-bore  elephant  gun 
followed.  They  travelled  for  an  hour  up  through 
graceful  bamboos  and  on  into  the  rolling  hills,  com- 
ing upon  the  tusker  and  the  natives  waiting. 

Gothya,  the  mahout,  salaamed,  saying: 

"We  have  heard  something  that  moves  with  noise 
in  the  jungle,  and,  not  wishing  to  frighten  Moti,  we 
have  waited  for  the  sahib." 

"It  was  a  bison,"  one  of  the  men  declared.  "Twice 
have  I  seen  his  broad,  black  back." 

"Sahib,"  the  mahout  suggested,  "it  may  be  that 


160  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

it  was  a  tiger,  for  Raj  Bahadar  has  taken  the  wind 
with  his  trunk  many  times,  after  his  manner  when 
there  are  tiger  about." 

"Fools,  all  of  you  I"  Finnerty  said  angrily.  "You 
are  wasting  time." 

"Sahib" — it  was  Mahadua's  plaintive  voice — 
"these  men,  who  are  fitted  for  smoking  opium  in  the 
bazaar,  will  most  surely  waste  the  sahib's  time.  It 
is  better  that  we  go  in  front." 

"I  think  you're  right,"  Finnerty  declared.  "Go 
you  in  front,  Mahadua,  for  you  make  little  noise; 
the  ears  of  an  elephant  are  sharp,  and  we  ride  horses, 
but  we  will  keep  you  in  sight."  He  turned  to  the 
mahout.  "At  a  distance  bring  along  Bahadur  and 
the  men." 

The  shikari  grinned  with  delight;  he  salaamed 
the  major  in  gratitude.  To  lead  a  hunt!  He  was 
in  the  seventh  heaven. 

As  noiseless  as  a  brown  shadow,  he  slipped 
through  the  jungle,  and  yet  so  free  of  pace  that  at 
times  he  had  to  wait  lest  the  sahibs  should  lose  his 
trail.  Once  they  lost  him  for  a  little;  when  they 
came  within  sight  he  was  standing  with  a  hand  up, 
and  when  they  reached  his  side  he  said:  "Sahib, 
sometimes  a  fool  trips  over  the  truth,  and  those  two, 
who  are  assuredly  fools  in  the  jungle,  have  both 
spoken  true  words,  for  I  have  seen  the  hoofprints 
of  a  mighty  bison  and  also  the  pugs  of  Pundit  Bagh 
who  has  a  foot  like  a  rice  pot.  I  will  carry  the 
8-bore,  and  if  the  sahib  will  walk  he  may  get  good 
hunting;  the  matter  of  Moti  can  wait." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  161 

"You'd  better  dismount,  Lord  Victor,  and  take  the 
shot,"  Finnerty  advised.  "A  tiger  is  evidently  stalk- 
ing the  bison,  so  perhaps  will  be  a  little  off  guard. 
The  syces  will  bring  along  the  ponies." 

£winton  dismounted  also,  saying:  "I'll  prowl  along 
with  you,  major,  if  you  don't  object." 

As  Lord  Victor  slipped  from  his  horse,  Finnerty 
said:  "If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  give  you  a  couple  of 
pointers  about  still  stalking,  for  if  you're  quiet  you 
have  a  good  chance  of  bagging  either  a  tiger  or  a 
bull  bison.  I  can't  do  anything  to  help  you;  you've 
got  to  depend  on  yourself  and  the  gun." 

"Thanks,  old  chap ;  just  tell  me  what  I  should  do." 

"You  will  keep  Mahadua  in  sight.  If  you  hear 
anything  in  the  jungle  that  would  cause  you  to  look 
around,  don't  turn  your  neck  while  you  are  moving, 
but  stand  perfectly  still — that  will  prevent  a  noisy, 
false  step.  Don't  try  to  step  on  a  log  in  crossing 
it — you  might  slip ;  but  sit  on  it  and  swing  your  legs 
over  if  you  can't  stride  it.  When  Mahadua  holds 
up  a  finger  that  he  sees  something,  don't  take  a  step 
without  looking  where  you  are  going  to  place  your 
foot,  and  don't  step  on  a  stick  or  a  stone.  If  it  is 
the  tiger,  don't  shoot  if  he  is  coming  toward  you — > 
not  until  he  has  just  passed;  then  rake  him  from 
behind  the  shoulder,  and  he'll  keep  going — he  won't 
turn  to  charge.  If  you  wound  him  when  he's  coming 
on,  it's  a  hundred  to  one  he'll  charge  and  maul  you, 
even  while  he's  dying.  As  to  the  bull,  shoot  him 
any  old  way  that  brings  him  down,  for  the  bison's 
ferocity  is  good  fiction." 


162  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Finnerty  had  given  this  lesson  in  almost  a  whis- 
per. Now  he  thrust  the  8-bore  into  Lord  Victor's 
hand,  saying:  "This  shoots  true,  flat-sighted,  up  to 
fifty  yards;  but  don't  try  to  pick  off  that  tiger  at 
over  twenty.  The  gun  is  deuced  heavy — it  weighs 
fifteen  pounds — so  don't  tire  your  arms  carrying  it 
at  the  ready.  It  fires  a  charge  of  twelve  drams  of 
powder,  so  hold  it  tight  to  your  shoulder  or  it'll 
break  a  bone.  It  throws  a  three-ounce,  hollow-nosed 
bullet  that'll  mushroom  in  either  a  tiger  or  a  bison, 
and  he'll  stop." 

Mahadua  took  up  the  trail  again,  not  following  all 
the  windings  and  zigzag  angles  of  its  erratic  way, 
for  they  were  now  breasting  a  hill  and  he  knew  that 
the  bull,  finding  the  flies  troublesome,  would  seek  the 
top  plateau  so  that  the  breeze  would  blow  these 
pests  away.  The  wind  was  favourable — on  their 
faces — for  the  wise  old  bull  travelled  into  it,  know- 
ing that  it  would  carry  to  him  a  danger  taint  if  the 
tiger  waited  in  ambush. 

"We'll  carry  on  for  a  little  longer,"  Finnerty  said; 
"but  if  we  find  the  bull  is  heading  up  into  the  sal 
forest  we'll  give  it  up  and  go  after  Moti ;  she  won't 
be  far  away,  I  fancy." 

They  followed  the  bison's  trail,  that  had  now 
straightened  out  as  he  fled  from  the  thing  that  had 
disturbed  his  rest,  for  fifteen  minutes,  and  Mahadua 
was  just  dipping  over  the  plateau's  far  edge  when 
a  turmoil  of  noises  came  floating  up  from  the  val- 
ley beyond — a  turmoil  of  combat  between  large  ani- 
mals. Quickening  their  pace,  Finnerty  and  Swinton 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  163 

saw,  as  they  reached  the  slope,  Mahadua  wiring  his 
way  into  a  wall  of  bamboo  that  hung  like  a  screen 
on  a  shelving  bank. 

"Come  on!"  Finnerty  commanded.  "There's 
such  a  fiendish  shindy  down  there  we  won't  be  heard, 
and  the  wind  is  from  that  quarter." 

Creeping  through  the  bamboos,  they  saw  Maha- 
dua, one  hand  in  the  air  as  a  sign  of  caution,  peering 
down  into  the  hollow.  Finnerty  gasped  with  surg- 
ing delight  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  regal  picture 
that  lay  against  the  jungle  background.  A  mighty 
bull  bison,  his  black  back  as  broad  as  a  table,  stood 
at  bay  with  lowered  head,  his  red-streaked,  flash- 
ing eyes  watching  a  huge  tiger  that  crouched,  ready 
to  spring,  a  dozen  feet  away. 

"Pundit  Bagh — see  his  spectacles,  sahib!"  the 
guide  whispered. 

The  torn-up  ground  told  the  battle  had  waged 
for  some  time.  With  a  warning  finger  to  his  lips, 
Finnerty  sat  quivering  with  the  joy  of  having  stum- 
bled upon  the  life  desire  of  every  hunter  of  big  game 
in  India — the  chance  to  witness  a  combat  between  a 
full-grown  tiger  and  a  bull  bison.  On  one  side  fe- 
rocity, devilish  cunning,  strength,  muscles  like  piano 
wire,  and  lightning  speed;  on  the  other,  enormous 
power,  cool  courage,  and  dagger  horns  that  if  once 
well  placed  would  disembowel  the  cat. 

Every  wary  twist  of  the  crouching  tiger's  head, 
every  quiver  of  his  rippling  muscles,  every  false  feint 
of  the  pads  that  dug  restlessly  at  the  sward,  showed 
that  he  had  no  intention  of  being  caught  in  a  death 


164  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

grapple  with  the  giant  bull;  he  was  like  a  wrestler 
waiting  for  a  grip  on  the  other's  neck,  his  lips  curled 
in  a  taunting  sneer. 

With  a  snort  of  defiance  the  bison  suddenly 
charged;  and  Pundit  Bagh,  his  yellow  fangs  bared 
in  a  savage  growl,  vaulted  lightly  to  the  top  of  a  flat 
rock,  taking  a  swipe  with  spread  claws  at  the  bull's 
eyes  as  he  passed.  The  bull,  anticipating  this  move, 
had  suddenly  lowered  his  head,  catching  the  blow 
on  a  strong,  curved  horn,  and  the  Pundit  sat  on  the 
rock  holding  the  injured  paw  in  the  air,  a  comical 
look  of  surprise  in  his  spectacled  eyes.  As  the  bison 
swung  about,  the  tiger,  slipping  from  the  rock,  faced 
him  again,  twenty  feet  away. 

Spellbound  by  the  atmosphere  of  this  Homeric 
duel,  the  sahibs  had  crouched,  motionless,  scarcely 
breathing,  held  by  intense  interest.  Now,  suddenly 
recalling  his  hunting  mission,  Lord  Victor  drew  the 
8-bore  forward;  but  Mahadua's  little  black  eyes 
looked  into  Finnerty's  in  pathetic  pleading,  and  the 
latter  placed  his  big  palm  softly  on  the  hand  that 
held  the  gun.  Lord  Victor  had  been  trained  to  un- 
derstand the  chivalry  of  sport,  and  he  nodded.  A 
smile  hovered  on  his  lips  as  he  held  up  the  spread 
fingers  of  two  hands  and  then  pointed  toward  the 
bison. 

Finnerty  understood,  and,  leaning  forward,  whis- 
pered: "You're  on  for  ten  rupees,  and  I  back 
Stripes." 

"Sahib!"  So  low  the  tone  of  Mahadua's  voice 
that  it  barely  reached  their  ears ;  and  following  the 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  165 

line  of  a  pointed  finger  they  saw  on  the  rounded 
knob  of  a  little  hill  across  the  valley  a  red  jungle  dog, 
his  erected  tail  weaving  back  and  forth  in  an  unmis- 
takable signal. 

"He's  flagging  the  pack,"  Finnerty  whispered. 
"Now  we'll  see  these  devils  at  work." 

Whimpering  cries  from  here  and  there  across  the 
valley  told  that  these  dreaded  brutes,  drawn  by  the 
tiger's  angry  roars,  were  gathering  to  be  in  at  a 
death. 

The  keen-eared  bull  had  heard  the  yapping  pack, 
and  as  his  head  turned  for  the  fraction  of  a  second 
Pundit  Bagh  stole  three  catlike  steps  forward;  but 
as  the  horns  came  into  defence  he  crouched,  belly  to 
earth,  his  stealthy  feline  nature  teaching  him  that  his 
only  hope  against  his  adversary's  vast  bulk  was  some 
trick  made  possible  by  waiting  a  charge. 

Like  Medusa's  hair  which  changed  into  serpents, 
the  screening  jungle  thrust  forth  its  many  sinuous  ten- 
tacles. Lean,  red,  black-nosed  heads  appeared  from 
thorny  bush  and  spiked  grass,  and  step  by  step  gaunt 
bodies  came  out  into  the  arena.  Some  sat  on  their 
haunches,  dripping  tongues  lapping  at  yellow  fangs 
as  though  their  owners  already  drank  blood;  others, 
uttering  whimpering  notes  of  anticipation,  prowled 
in  a  semicircle,  their  movements  causing  Pundit  Bagh 
to  hug  closer  the  bank  with  its  jutting  rocks. 

Both  combatants  in  the  presence  of  this  new  dan- 
ger stayed  for  a  little  their  battle;  they  knew  that 
the  one  that  went  down  first  would  have  the  pack 
against  him. 


166  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Finnerty  whispered :  "The  cunning  devils  will  wait, 
and  if  Pundit  Bagh  wins  out,  but  is  used  up — which 
he  will  be — the  dogs  will  drive  him  away  and  eat 
his  dinner.  If  he's  killed,  they  will  devour  him  when 
the  bison  departs." 

"I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  for  a  thousand 
guineas !"  Lord  Victor  panted  in  a  husky  whisper. 

Finnerty,  patting  the  gun,  said:  "We'll  probably 
have  to  settle  it  with  this  yet;  so  have  it  ready  for 
a  quick  throw  to  your  shoulder."  He  picked  up  a 
stick  from  the  ground  and  thrust  an  end  into  a  clump 
of  growing  bamboos,  adding:  "There !  That  8-bore 
is  mighty  heavy;  rest  it  across  this  stick.  We  won't 
shoot  the  bison,  no  matter  what  happens;  he's  like 
a  gentleman  assailed  by  a  footpad.  It  will  be  Stripes 
or  the  dogs;  so  take  your  time  drawing  a  bead — 
I'll  tell  you  when  it's  necessary." 

As  if  during  this  little  lull  following  the  jungle 
pack's  advent  the  bison  had  thought  along  the  same 
lines  as  Major  Finnerty,  and  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  if  he  turned  tail  dogs  and  tiger  would 
pull  him  down,  lowered  his  head,  and,  with  a  defiant 
snort,  charged.  A  stride,  and  Pundit  Bagh,  who  had 
plotted  as  he  crouched,  shot  into  the  air,  a  quiver- 
ing mass  of  gold  and  bronze  in  the  sunlight.  But  he 
had  waited  the  fraction  of  a  second  too  long;  he 
missed  the  neck,  landing  on  the  high,  grizzled  wither. 
Like  a  flash  his  mighty  arms  were  about  the  bull, 
and  his  huge  jaws,  wide-spread,  snapped  for  a  grip 
that,  if  secured,  would  break  the  vertebra — it  would 
go  like  a  pipestem  in  the  closing  of  that  vise  of  arms 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  167 

and  jaw.  But  the  little  shift  from  wither  to  neck 
caused  him  to  miss  the  spine ;  his  fangs  tore  through 
flesh  and  he  was  crushed  against  a  rock,  his  hold 
broken. 

The  dogs,  eager  in  bloodthirst,  dashed  in,  snap- 
ping at  the  tiger's  rumps,  and,  as  he  whirled,  sprang 
at  his  face.  One  blow  of  a  paw,  like  the  cut  of  a 
gold  scimitar,  and  a  dog  landed  ten  feet  away — 
pulp. 

A  sigh  of  relief  escaped  from  Finnerty  as  the 
dogs  slunk  back  and  Pundit  Bagh,  seemingly  none 
the  worse,  crouched  again  for  battle. 

"That  is  their  way,"  Mahadua  whispered;  "they 
seek  to  cut  Bagh  in  his  vitals  behind,  while  in  front 
others  spit  poison  in  his  eyes  to  blind  him ;  the  white 
froth  that  spouts  from  their  mouths  when  they  fight 
is  poison." 

Blood  was  dripping  from  the  bison's  neck  as  he 
faced  about,  but  the  snap  at  his  neck  had  not  dis- 
couraged him;  his  actions  showed  that  he  would 
battle  to  the  end.  The  taste  of  blood  had  broken 
the  Pundit's  debonair  nonchalance.  Before  he  had 
been  like  a  cat  playing  with  a  mouse;  he  had  purred 
and  kinked  his  long  tail  in  satirical  jerks.  Now  he 
lashed  his  sides  or  beat  the  ground  in  anger.  From 
his  throat  issued  a  snarling  "W-o-u-g-h-n-ng!"  Again 
he  waited  for  his  antagonist's  charge,  slipping  to  one 
side  as  the  black  mass  came  hurtling  toward  him  to 
swipe  at  the  eyes,  cutting  clean  away  an  ear  and 
leaving  red-blooded  slits  from  cheek  to  shoulder,  his 


168  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

damaged  paw  once  more  suffering  from  contact  with 
that  hard  skull. 

The  dogs  had  edged  in  as  the  two  clashed,  but 
dropped  back  to  their  waiting  line  as  tiger  and  bison 
faced  each  other  again,  the  latter  shaking  his  mas- 
sive head  and  pawing  fretfully,  as  if  angered  at  his 
enemy's  slipping  away  when  they  came  to  close  quar- 
ters. Something  of  this  must  have  stirred  his  own 
strategy,  for,  as  he  thundered  in  a  charge,  he  swept 
his  head  sitfewise  as  the  tiger  swerved,  catching 
Stripes  a  crashing  blow,  the  sharp  incurve  of  the 
horn  all  that  saved  him  from  being  ripped  wide  open. 
Half  stunned,  he  was  pinned  to  earth  as  the  bull 
swung  short  to  a  fresh  attack;  and,  seeing  this,  tak- 
ing it  for  the  end,  the  dogs,  with  yaps  of  fury,  closed 
in,  snapping  with  their  cutting  teeth  at  flesh,  wherever 
found. 

With  a  bellow  of  rage,  the  bull  backed  away  three 
paces,  and  a  dog  that  had  gripped  his  neck  was 
ground  to  death  against  the  earth.  Pundit  Bagh 
thrust  his  body  up  through  a  dozen  dogs  that  clung 
like  red  ants,  and,  whether  in  chivalry  or  blind  an- 
ger, the  bull,  with  lowered  head,  rushed  on  the  yap- 
ping, snarling,  lancing  pack,  at  the  first  thrust  his 
daggerlike  horns  piercing  a  dog.  The  outstretched 
black  neck,  the  taut,  extended  spine  almost  brushing 
Pundit's  nose,  flashed  into  his  tiger  mind  the  killing 
grip.  Forgotten  were  the  dogs  in  the  blind  call 
of  blood  lust.  The  widespread  jaws  crunched  astride 
the  neck,  and,  with  a  wrench  that  he  had  learned 
from  his  mother  when  a  cub,  the  bull  was  thrown, 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  169 

the  dogs  pouncing  upon  him  with  hunger  in  their 
hearts. 

At  the  first  treacherous  snap  of  the  tiger's  jaws, 
Finnerty  had  acted.  With  the  subservience  of  a 
medium,  at  the  word  "Now!"  Lord  Victor  pressed 
the  gunstock  against  his  shoulder;  his  head  drooped 
till  his  eye  ranged  the  barrels;  and,  penetrating  the 
booming  thump  of  his  heart,  a  calming  voice  was 
saying:  "Take  your  time;  aim  behind  the  tiger's 
shoulder.  Stead-d-y,  man !"  His  finger  pulled  heav- 
ily on  the  trigger,  the  gun  roared,  and  a  sledge- 
hammer blow  on  his  shoulder  all  but  sprawled  him; 
then  the  gun  was  snatched  from  his  hands.  Half 
dazed,  he  saw  Finnerty  send  another  bullet  into 
something.  There  was  a  "Click!  Snap!"  as  two 
fresh  shells  were  slipped  into  the  barrels,  and  again 
the  8-bore  thundered  twice. 

Springing  to  his  feet,  Gilfain  saw  a  great  mass  of 
gold  and  brown  flat  to  earth,  and  the  black  rump 
of  a  bison  bull  galloping  off  into  the  jungle.  Then 
his  fingers  were  being  crushed  in  the  huge  hand  of 
Finnerty,  who  was  saying:  "My  dear  boy,  a  corking 
shot — straight  through  the  heart;  he  never  moved! 
I  shot  two  or  three  dogs!" 

"Demme!"  was  all  the  pumped-out  Lord  Victor 
could  gasp,  as  he  sank  back  to  the  knob  of  earth  he 
had  been  sitting  on. 

"One  never  knows,"  Finnerty  said,  shoving  a  fresh 
cartridge  into  the  8-bore,  "if  a  tiger  is  really  dead  till 
he's  skinned.  Come  on;  we'll  look." 

Mahadua,  saying,  "Have  patience,  sahib,"  threw 


170  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

a  stone,  hitting  Pundit  Bagh  fair  on  the  head.  There 
was  no  movement.  Then,  striding  in  front,  Fin- 
nerty  prodded  the  fallen  monarch  with  his  gun  muz- 
zle. He  was  indeed  dead. 

"I  got  a  couple  of  those  vermin,  anyway,"  and 
Finnerty  pointed  to  two  dogs  the  big  8-bore  bullet 
had  nearly  blown  to  pieces. 

Mahadua,  on  his  knees,  was  muttering:  "Salaam, 
Pundit  Bagh !"  and  patting  the  huge  head  that  held 
the  fast-glazing  yellow  globes  set  in  black-rimmed 
spectacles.  There  was  a  weird  reflex  of  jungle  rev- 
erence in  his  eyes  as,  rising,  he  said,  addressing  Fin- 
nerty: "Sahib,  Pundit  Bagh  did  not  kill  men  nor 
women  nor  children;  this  was  the  way  he  fought." 
And  then,  when  there  were  no  eyes  upon  him,  he 
surreptitiously  plucked  three  long  bristles  from  the 
tiger's  moustache,  slipping  them  into  his  jacket 
pocket  to  be  kept  as  a  charm  against  jungle  devils. 

Lord  Victor  had  come  down  the  hill,  dead  to  sen- 
sation; he  had  walked  like  one  in  a  dream.  The 
fierce  press  of  contained  excitement  had  numbed  his 
brain;  now  he  loosened  to  the  erratic  mood  of  a 
child;  he  laughed  idiotically,  while  tears  of  excited 
joy  rolled  down  his  pink  cheeks;  he  babbled  inco- 
herent, senseless  words;  he  wanted  to  kiss  Finnerty, 
Pundit  Bagh,  or  something,  or  somebody;  he  would 
certainly  give  Mahadua  a  hundred  rupees;  he  fell 
to  unlacing  and  lacing  his  shoes  in  nervous  dementia. 
What  would  the  earl  say?  What  would  the  fellows 
at  the  London  clubs  say? 

Finnerty  had  a  tape  out,  and,  passing  his  note- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  171 

book  to  Swinton,  he,  with  Mahadua  at  one  end  of 
the  tape,  rapidly  ruled  off  the  following  measure- 
ments : 

Feet  Inches 

From  point  of  nose  to  tip  of  tail 10 

Length  of  tail 2  10 

Girth  behind  shoulders 4  4 

Girth  of  head 3  4 

Girth  of  forearm I  10 

Height  at  shoulder 3  6 

"There!"  And  Finnerty  put  his  tape  in  his 
pocket.  "Pundit  Bagb.  is  a  regal  one.  I  feel  sorry 
we  had  to  shoot  him  in  just  that  way;  but  the  dogs 
spoiled  a  good  fight.  Fancy  your  getting  a  skin  like 
that  to  take  back,  Lord  Victor — it's  luck!  And  re- 
member, gentlemen,  we  must  spread  this  mandate 
that  a  bull  bison  with  one  ear  goes  free  of  the  gun, 
for  he  was  a  right-couraged  one." 

"Rather!"  Lord  Victor  ejaculated.  "To-night 
we'll  drink  a  toast  in  fizz  to  the  one-eared  bull — a 
thoroughbred  gentleman!" 

"We'll  need  the  elephant  up  to  pad  this  tiger," 
Finnerty  said.  Mahadua,  who  was  sent  to  bring  on 
Raj  Bahadar,  had  not  been  gone  two  minutes  when 
from  their  back  trail  came,  upwind,  the  shrill  trum- 
peting of  two  elephants,  and  mingling  with  this  was 
the  harsh  honk  of  a  conch  shell. 

"That's   Moti,   or  wild  elephants  tackling   Raj 


TO  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Bahadar,"  Finnerty  declared.  "I  must  get  back. 
The  tiger  will  be  all  right  here  for  a  little — those 
dogs  won't  come  back — and  I'll  send  Mahadua  and 
the  elephant  after  him." 


PART  THREE 


PART  THREE 
Chapter  XIII 

IT  was  a  stirring  scene  that  greeted  the  three 
sahibs  on  their  arrival  at  the  conflict.  Like  a 
family  of  monkeys  the  natives  decorated  the 
tree,  while  below  was  Burra  Moti  giving  lusty  bat- 
tle to  the  tusker.  Either  out  of  chivalry  or  cow- 
ardice, Raj  Bahadar  was  backing  up,  refusing  to 
obey  the  prod  of  his  mahout's  goad,  and  charge. 

As  Moti  came  at  the  bull  like  a  battering-ram  he 
received  her  on  his  forehead,  the  impact  sounding 
like  the  crash  of  two  meeting  freight  cars,  and  she, 
vindictively  cunning,  with  a  quick  twist  of  her  head, 
gashed  him  in  the  neck  with  a  long  tusk. 

"Come  down  out  of  there,  you  women  of  the 
sweeper  caste!"  Finnerty  commanded.  The  natives 
dropped  to  the  ground.  One  of  them,  uncoiling  his 
rawhide  rope,  darted  in  behind  Moti,  noosed  a  lifted 
foot,  and  ran  back  with  the  trailing  end. 

Raj  Bahadar,  discouraged  by  the  thrust  in  his 
neck,  wheeled  and  fled,  pursued  by  Moti,  the  native 
lassooer,  clinging  to  the  trailing  noose,  being  whipped 
about  like  a  wind-tossed  leaf.  With  a  shout  Fin- 
nerty followed,  the  others  joining  in  the  chase. 

A  thick  growth  of  timber  checked  Raj  Bahadar, 
and,  as  Moti  slackened  her  pace,  the  man  with  the 

175 


176  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

rawhide  darted  around  a  tree  with  the  rope;  Fin- 
nerty  and  the  others  grasped  the  end,  the  rawhide 
creaked  and  stretched,  and  as  Moti  plunged  forward 
her  hind  leg  was  suddenly  yanked  into  the  air,  bring- 
ing her  down.  Another  man  sprang  in  to  noose  a 
foreleg,  but  Moti  was  too  quick  for  him;  she  was  up 
to  stand  for  a  little  sullen  meditation. 

The  native  flashed  in  and  out,  almost  within  reach 
of  her  trunk,  trying  to  make  her  raise  a  forefoot 
that  he  might  noose  it  and  slip  his  rawhide  about  a 
tree,  when  Moti,  tethered  fore  and  aft,  would  be 
helpless. 

"Be  careful!"  Finnerty  called  as  the  noose  man 
slipped  in  and  flicked  Moti  on  the  knee  with  no  re- 
sult but  the  curling  up  of  her  trunk,  as  if  out  of 
harm's  way.  Again  he  danced  in,  and  as  the  long 
trunk  shot  out  like  a  snake  darting  from  a  coil  he 
sprang  beneath  the  big  head,  giving  a  laugh  of  de- 
rision; but  Moti  struck  sidewise  with  a  forefoot,  and 
with  a  sickening  crunch  the  man  dropped  ten  feet 
away. 

Uttering  a  squeal  of  rage,  the  elephant  whipped 
about  and  charged  back,  the  rawhide  noose  breaking 
like  a  piece  of  twine.  Finnerty  was  fair  in  her  path, 
but  with  a  grunt,  as  if  to  say,  "Get  out  of  the  way, 
friend,"  she  brushed  by  him,  and  would  have  gone 
straight  off  to  the  jungle  had  not  a  man,  in  a  sudden 
folly  of  fright,  darted  from  behind  a  tree  only  to 
stumble  and  fall  before  he  had  taken  a  dozen  steps. 
Down  on  her  knees  went  Moti,  seeking  to  spear  the 
fallen  man  with  her  tusks,  but  at  the  first  thrust  one 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  177 

went  either  side  of  his  body,  and,  being  long,  the 
great,  crushing  head  did  not  quite  reach  him.  Grasp- 
ing both  pillars  of  this  ivory  archway,  the  man 
wriggled  out  and  escaped  as  Moti,  pulling  her  tusks 
out  of  the  soft  earth,  rose,  cocked  her  ears,  drove  a 
whistle  of  astonishment  through  her  trunk,  and  then 
scuttled  off  to  the  jungle. 

"We  won't  follow  her  up,"  Finnerty  declared; 
"the  noosing  has  flustered  the  old  girl  and  we'll  not 
get  near  her  again  to-day;  she'd  keep  going  if  she 
heard  us  and  we'd  lose  her  forever  up  in  the  hills." 

Mahadua  advised:  "If  the  mahout  will  tickle 
Bahadar  with  his  hook  so  that  he  speak  now  and 
then,  perhaps  Moti,  being  lonesome  and  remember- 
ing of  cakes  and  home,  will  come  back  like  an  angry 
woman  who  has  found  peace." 

Thinking  this  a  good  plan,  Finnerty  gave  the  ma- 
hout orders  to  entice  Moti  in  if  she  came  about.  A 
dozen  men  were  sent  to  bring  the  tiger,  slung  from 
a  pole,  to  the  bungalow;  they  would  bring  back  food 
to  the  others. 

Telling  the  natives  he  would  join  them  in  the  hunt 
next  day,  Finnerty  and  his  companions  mounted  their 
horses  to  ride  back. 

Coming  to  the  road  that  wound  through  the  cool 
sal  forest,  they  saw  Prince  Ananda  riding  toward 
them. 

"What  luck?"  he  greeted  when  they  met.  "I  heard 
that  an  elephant  had  taken  to  the  jungle."  He 
wheeled  his  Arab  with  them,  adding:  "You  look 


178  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

done  up.    Come  along  to  the  palace  and  have  a  cool- 
ing drink." 

Lord  Victor  ranged  his  horse  alongside  Ananda's 
Arab  as  they  started,  but  as  they  drew  near  the  pal- 
ace grounds  Darpore  halted  his  horse,  and,  pointing 
his  hunting  crop  across  the  broad  valley  below  in 
which  lay  the  town,  said:  "Yonder  was  the  road 
along  which,  so  many  centuries  ago,  Prince  Sakya 
Singha's  mother  came  when  he  was  born  here  in 
the  Lumbini  Garden." 

Swinton,  in  whose  mind  the  prince  was  arraigned 
as  a  vicar  of  the  devil — at  least  as  a  seditious  prince 
which,  to  a  British  officer,  was  analogous — felt  the 
curious  subtlety  of  this  speech;  for,  sitting  his  beau- 
tiful Arab,  outlined  against  the  giant  sal  trees,  their 
depths  holding  the  mysteries  of  centuries,  he  had  an 
Oriental  background  that  made  his  pose  compelling. 

Lord  Victor  moved  a  little  to  one  side,  as  if  his 
volatile  spirits  felt  a  dampening,  the  depression  of 
a  burled  past;  and  Prince  Ananda,  turning  his  Arab, 
drew  Swinton  along  to  his  side  by  saying:  "Have  you 
come  in  contact  with  the  cleavage  of  religious  fa- 
naticism in  India,  captain?" 

"My  experience  was  only  of  the  army;  there  the 
matter  of  Hindu  or  Mussulman  is  now  better  under- 
stood and  better  arranged,"  Swinton  answered  cau- 
tiously as  he  and  Ananda  rode  forward  side  by  side. 

The  captain  was  puzzled.  Training  had  increased 
the  natural  bent  of  his  mind  toward  a  suspicious 
receptivity  where  he  felt  there  was  necessity.  He 
had  decided  that  the  prince,  with  Oriental  lethargy, 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

never  acted  spontaneously — that  there  was  something 
behind  every  move  he  made;  his  halt,  back  on  the 
road,  was  evidently  to  make  a  change  from  Lord 
Victor  to  himself  in  their  alignment.  Temporarily 
the  captain  fancied  that  the  prince  might  wish  to 
draw  from  him  some  account  of  the  preceding  night's 
adventure.  Indeed,  as  a  Raj  horse  had  probably 
been  killed,  Ananda  could  not  have  missed  hearing 
of  the  accident. 

It  was  Lord  Victor's  voice  that  stirred  these 
thoughts  to  verbal  existence.  "I  say,  Prince  An- 
anda," he  suddenly  asked,  "did  you  hear  that  my 
mentor  had  been  devoured  by  a  tiger  last  night?" 

As  if  startled  into  a  remembrance,  Ananda  said: 
"Sorry,  captain,  I  forgot  to  ask  if  anything  did  hap- 
pen you  last  night.  My  master  of  horse  reported 
this  morning  that  your  pony  was  found  with  a  broken 
leg  at  the  foot  of  a  cliff ;  then  I  heard  that  you  had 
gone  off  with  the  major,  so  knew  you  were  all  right. 
You  see,  well" — the  prince  spoke  either  in  genuine 
or  assumed  diffidence — "as  it  was  a  Raj  pony  that 
came  to  grief  I  couldn't  very  well  speak  of  it;  that 
is,  knowing  that  you  were  all  right." 

"When  I  heard  it,"  Gilfain  broke  in,  "remember- 
ing what  you  had  said  about  the  hunting  leopard,  I 
was  deuced  well  bashed,  I  assure  you." 

"Was  there — anything — in  the  report  of — a  tiger 
trying  to  maul  you?"  the  prince  asked,  and  Swinton, 
tilting  his  helmet,  found  the  luminous  black  eyes 
reading  his  face. 

But  Swinton  could  have  been  plotting  murder  be- 


180  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

hind  those  "farthing  eyes"  for  all  they  betrayed  as 
he  answered:  "I  don't  know  what  frightened  the  ani- 
mal; he  suddenly  shied  and  I  was  thrown  out,  com- 
ing a  cropper  on  my  head  which  put  me  to  sleep  for 
a  few  minutes.  When  I  came  to  the  pony  and  cart 
had  disappeared  and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
go  back  to  the  major's  bungalow  for  the  night." 

"Then  there  was  nothing  in  the  tiger  story,"  the 
prince  commented. 

"I  saw  no  tiger,  anyway,"  Swinton  declared,  and 
Finnerty  chuckled  inwardly,  for,  like  the  captain,  he 
had  been  mystified  by  Darpore's  sudden  interest  in 
the  latter. 

The  prince  had  presented  something  akin  to  a 
caste  aloofness  toward  Swinton;  now  the  change  had 
tensed  Finnerty's  perceptions  so  that  he  took  cog- 
nizance of  things  that  ordinarily  would  have  passed 
as  trivial.  He  saw  Ananda  deliberately  ride  past 
the  road  that  would  have  taken  them  to  the  magnifi- 
cent courtyard  entrance  of  the  palace,  the  beautiful 
red  rubble  road  that  wound  its  way  through  crotons, 
oleanders,  and  hibiscus  around  the  fairy  Lake  of  the 
Golden  Coin  to  cross  the  marble-arched  bridge.  Now 
they  were  following  a  road  that  led  through  the  zoo 
to  the  back  entrance.  As  they  came  to  a  massive 
teakwood  gate,  from  the  left  of  which  stretched 
away  in  a  crescent  sweep  a  wall  of  cages — the  first 
one  at  the  very  gatepost  holding  a  fiend,  a  man-kill- 
ing black  leopard — the  major  pressed  his  mount 
close  to  the  rump  of  Swinton's  horse,  upon  the  right 
of  whom  rode  Prince  Ananda.  A  guard  saluted,  an 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  181 

attendant  swung  the  teakwood  barrier  inward,  and 
while  it  was  still  but  half  open  Ananda  pressed  for- 
ward, his  horse  carrying  Swinton's  with  him  into  a 
holocaust  of  lightning-like  happenings. 

Swinton  turned  toward  the  prince  at  some  word, 
and  at  that  instant  the  tatter's  horse  swerved  against 
his  mount,  as  if  stung  by  a  spur  on  the  outside;  a 
black  arm,  its  paw  studded  with  glittering  claws, 
flashed  through  the  bars  of  the  cage  with  a  sweep 
like  a  scimitar's,  striking  Swinton  full  in  the  chest, 
the  curved  claws  hooking  through  his  khaki  coat  and 
sweeping  him  half  out  of  the  saddle  toward  the  iron 
bars  against  which  he  would  be  ripped  to  pieces  in 
a  second.  With  an  oath,  Finnerty's  whip  came  down 
on  his  horse's  flank,  and  the  Irishman's  body  was 
driven  like  a  wedge  between  the  leopard  and  his 
prey;  the  thrusting  weight  tore  the  claws  through 
the  cloth  of  Swinton's  coat,  and,  still  clutching 
viciously,  they  slashed  Finnerty  across  the  chest,  a 
gash  the  width  of  his  chin  showing  they  had  all  but 
torn  through  his  throat. 

Swinton  pulled  himself  into  the  saddle  and  looked 
back  at  the  major's  blood-smeared  chin  and  on  be- 
yond to  the  sinister  black  creature  that  stood  up  on 
his  hind  legs  against  the  bars  of  his  cage  thrusting 
a  forepaw  through  playfully  as  though  it  were  only 
a  bit  of  feline  sport.  He  shuddered  at  the  devilish- 
ness  of  the  whole  thing  that  looked  so  like  another 
deliberate  attempt.  The  prince  would  know  that 
that  black  fiend,  true  to  his  jungle  instincts,  would  be 
waiting  in  hiding  behind  the  brick  wall  of  his  cage 


182  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

for  a  slash  at  any  warm-blooded  creature  rounding 
the  corner.  They  were  a  fighting  pair,  this  black, 
murderous  leopard  and  the  prince.  Finnerty  was 
checking  the  blood  flow  on  his  chin  with  a  handker- 
chief; his  eyes,  catching  Swinton's  as  they  turned 
from  the  leopard,  were  full  of  fierce  anger. 

There  had  been  an  outburst  of  grating  calls  and 
deep,  reverberating  roars  as  leopards  and  tigers, 
roused  by  the  snarl  of  the  black  demon  as  he  struck, 
gave  vent  to  their  passion. 

As  if  stirred  to  ungovernable  anger  by  the  dan- 
ger his  friends  had  incurred  through  the  gateman's 
fault,  Ananda  turned  on  the  frightened  man,  and, 
raising  his  whip,  brought  it  down  across  his  back. 
Twice  the  lash  fell,  and  two  welts  rose  in  the  smooth 
black  skin ;  this  assault  accompanied  by  a  torrent  of 
abuse  that  covered  chronologically  the  native's  an- 
cestry back  to  his  original  progenitor,  a  jungle  pig. 
Ananda's  face,  livid  from  this  physical  and  mental 
assault,  smoothed  out  with  a  look  of  contrite  sorrow 
as  he  apologised  to  his  companions. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,  major;  that  fool  nearly  cost 
us  a  life  by  frightening  my  horse  with  his  frantic 
efforts  to  open  the  gate.  He's  an  opium  eater,  and 
must  have  been  beating  that  leopard  with  his  staff 
to  have  made  him  so  suddenly  vicious.  Your  coat 
is  ripped,  captain;  are  you  wounded?" 

"No,  thanks!"  Swinton  answered  dryly. 

"You  are,  major." 

"Nothing  much — a  scratch.  I'll  have  to  be  care- 
ful over  blood  poisoning,  that's  all." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  183 

"Yes,"  the  prince  said,  "I'll  have  my  apothecary 
apply  an  antiseptic." 

As  they  wound  between  a  spurting  fountain  and  a 
semicircle  of  iron-barred  homes,  a  monkey  dropped 
his  black,  spiderlike  body  from  an  iron  ring  in  the 
ceiling,  and,  holding  by  a  coil  in  the  end  of  his  tail, 
swung  back  and  forth,  head  down,  howling  dismally. 
Bedlam  broke  forth  in  answer  to  this  discordant 
wail. 

"Delightful  place!"  Finnerry  muttered  as  he  rode 
at  Swinton's  elbow. 

"Inferno  and  the  archfiend!"  And  Swinton 
nodded  toward  the  back  of  Prince  Ananda,  who  rode 
ahead. 

In  the  palace  dispensary  Finnerty  brushed  the 
apothecary  to  one  side  and  treated  his  slashed  chin 
with  iodine;  a  rough  treatment  that  effectually 
cleaned  the  cut  at  the  bottom,  which  was  the  bone. 

They  did  not  tarry  long  over  the  champagne,  and 
were  soon  in  the  saddle  again.  Finnerty  asked  his 
companions  to  ride  on  to  his  bungalow  for  an  early 
dinner.  Lord  Victor  declined,  declaring  he  was 
clean  bowled,  but  insisted  that  the  captain  should 
accept.  As  for  himself,  he  was  going  to  bed,  being 
ghastly  tired. 

As  Swinton  and  the  major  sat  puffing  their  cheroots 
on  the  verandah  after  dinner,  the  latter  gave  a  de- 
spairing cry  of  "Great  Kuda !"  as  his  eyes  caught 
sight  of  the  Banjara  swinging  up  the  road,  evidently 
something  of  import  flogging  his  footsteps.  "We 


184  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

shall  now  be  laughed  at  for  not  having  bagged  that 
tiger  yesterday."    Finnerty  chuckled. 

But  the  Lumbani  was  in  no  hurry  to  disburse  what- 
ever was  in  his  mind,  for  he  folded  his  black  blanket 
on  the  verandah  at  the  top  step  and  sat  down,  sa- 
laaming in  a  most  grave  manner  first.  Finnerty  and 
Swinton  smoked  and  talked  in  English,  leaving  the 
tribesman  to  his  own  initiative.  Presently  he  asked: 
"Is  the  young  sahib  who  shot  my  dog  present?" 

Relief  softened  the  austere  cast  of  his  bony  face 
when  Finnerty  answered  "No." 

"It  is  as  well,"  the  Lumbani  said,  "for  the  young 
have  not  control  of  their  tongues.  But  the  sahib" 
— and  the  Banjara  nodded  toward  Swinton,  his  eyes 
coming  back  to  Finnerty's  face — "is  a  man  of  dis- 
cretion, is  it  not  so,  huzoor?" 

To  this  observation  the  major  agreed. 

"And  the  sahib  will  not  repeat  what  I  tell?" 

The  Lumbani  rubbed  his  long,  lean  hands  up  and 
down  the  length  of  his  staff  as  though  it  were  a  fairy 
wand  to  ward  off  evil;  his  black,  hawklike  eyes 
swept  the  compound,  the  verandah,  as  much  of  the 
bungalow  interior  as  they  could;  then  pitching  his 
voice  so  that  it  carried  with  wonderful  accuracy  just 
to  the  ears  of  the  two  men,  he  said:  "There  was  a 
man  beaten  to-day  at  the  gate  of  the  tiger  garden." 

Neither  of  the  sahibs  answered,  and  he  proceeded: 
"The  gateman  who  was  beaten  is  a  brother  to  me; 
not  a  blood  brother,  sahib,  but  a  tribe  brother,  for 
he  is  a  Banjara  of  the  Lumbani  caste." 

"By  Jove!"     The  major  clamped  his  jaws  close 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  185 

after    this    involuntary    exclamation    and    waited. 

"Yes,  sahib" — the  Lumbani  had  noticed  with  sat- 
isfaction the  major's  start — "my  brother  has  shown 
me  the  welts  on  his  shoulder,  such  as  are  raised  on 
a  cart  bullock,  but  he  is  not  a  bullock,  being  a  Ban- 
jara." 

There  was  a  little  silence,  the  native  turning  over 
in  his  mind  something  else  he  wished  to  say,  trying 
to  discover  first  what  impression  he  had  made,  his 
shrewd  eyes  searching  Finnerty's  face  for  a  sign. 
Suddenly,  as  if  taking  a  plunge,  he  asked:  "Does  the 
sahib,  who  is  a  man,  approve  that  the  servant  be 
beaten  like  a  dog — even  though  the  whip  lay  in  the 
hands  of  a  rajah?" 

Finnerty  hesitated.  It  is  not  well  to  give  encour- 
agement to  a  native  against  the  ruling  powers, 
whether  they  be  black  or  white. 

"And  he  was  not  at  fault,"  the  Banjara  added  per- 
suasively; "he  did  not  frighten  the  pony — it  was  the 
rajah's  spur,  for  my  brother  saw  blood  on  the  skin 
of  the  horse  where  the  spur  had  cut." 

"Why  didn't  he  open  the  gate  wide ;  had  he  orders 
not  to  do  so?"  Finnerty  asked  quickly. 

"Sahib,  if  the  rajah  had  passed  orders  such  as 
that  he  would  not  have  struck  a  Banjara  like  a  dog, 
lest  there  be  telling  of  the  orders;  but  the  gate  had 
been  injured  so  that  it  would  not  open  as  always, 
and  the  tender  did  not  know  it." 

"But  the  rajah  did  not  know  we'd  be  coming 
along  at  that  time,"  the  major  parried. 

"As  to  time,  one  day  matters  no  more  than  an- 


186  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

other.  The  rajah  would  have  invited  you  through 
that  gate  some  time.  But  he  did  know  you  were  up 
in  the  jungle,  and  rode  forth  to  meet  you." 

"It  was  but  a  happening,"  Finnerty  asserted,  with 
the  intent  of  extracting  from  the  Lumbani  what  fur- 
ther evidence  he  had. 

"When  one  thing  happens  many  times  it  is  more 
a  matter  of  arrangement  than  of  chance,"  the  Ban- 
jara  asserted. 

"I  don't  understand,"  Finnerty  declared. 

"There  is  a  window  in  the  palace,  sahib,  directly 
in  front  of  the  gate,  and  it  has  been  a  matter  of  pas- 
time for  the  rajah  to  sit  at  that  window  when  some- 
body against  whom  he  had  ill  will  would  be  ad- 
mitted and  clawed  by  that  black  devil." 

"Impossible !" 

"It  is  not  a  new  thing,  sahib;  my  brother  who  was 
beaten  knows  of  this." 

Finnerty  stepped  into  his  room,  and  returning 
placed  a  couple  of  rupees  in  the  ready  palm  of  the 
Banjara,  saying:  "Your  brother  has  been  beaten  be- 
cause of  us,  so  give  him  this." 

The  Lumbani  rolled  the  silver  in  the  fold  of  his 
loin  cloth,  and,  indicating  Swinton  with  his  staff,  said: 
"The  sahib  should  not  go  at  night  to  the  hill,  neither 
here  nor  there" — he  swept  an  arm  in  the  direction  of 
the  palace — "for  sometimes  that  evil  leopard  is 
abroad  at  night." 

Finnerty  laughed. 

The  Banjara  scowled:  "As  to  that,  the  black 
leopard  has  had  neither  food  nor  water  to-day,  and 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  187 

if  the  sahibs  sit  up  over  the  pool  in  Jadoo  Nala  they 
may  see  him  drink." 

"We'd  see  a  jungle  pig  coming  out  of  the  fields, 
or  a  muntjac  deer  with  his  silly  little  bark.perhaps," 
Finnerty  commented  in  quiet  tolerance. 

"Such  do  drink  at  the  pool,  but  of  these  I  am  not 
speaking.  The  young  man  being  not  with  you  to  dis- 
arrange matters,  you  might  happen  upon  something 
of  interest,  sahib,"  the  Banjara  declared  doggedly. 

"We  are  not  men  to  chase  a  phantom — to  go  and 
sit  at  Jadoo  Pool  because  a  herdsman  has  fallen 
asleep  on  the  back  of  a  buffalo  and  had  a  dream." 

Behind  a  faint  smile  the  Lumbani  digested  this. 
"Very  well,  sahib,"  he  exclaimed  presently,  with  defi- 
nite determination;  "I  will  speak.  When  my  brother 
was  beaten  the  dust  was  shaken  from  his  ears  and  he 
has  heard.  Beside  the  big  gate  Darna  Singh  and 
his  sister,  the  princess,  talked  to-day,  and  the  speech 
was  of  those  who  would  meet  in  secret  at  the  pool 
to-night." 

"Who  meet  there?" 

"The  rajah's  name  was  spoken,  sahib." 

"How  knew  Darna  Singh  this?" 

"There  be  always  teeth  that  can  be  opened  with 
a  silver  coin.  Now,"  and  the  Lumbani  gathered  up 
his  black  blanket,  throwing  it  over  his  shoulder,  "I 
go  to  my  herd,  for  there  is  a  she-buffalo  heavy  in 
calf  and  to-night  might  increase  the  number  of  my 
stock." 

"Have  patience,  Lumbani,"  Finnerty  commanded, 
and  as  the  Banjara  turned  to  stand  in  waiting  he 


188  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

added  to  Swinton:  "What  do  you  think,  captain — 
we  might  learn  something?  But  there's  Lord  Vic- 
tor; he'll  expect  you  home." 

"I'll  drop  him  a  note  saying  we're  going  to  sit  up 
over  the  Jadoo  Pool  and  to  not  worry  if  I  don't  get 
home  to-night." 

Finnerty  brought  pencil  and  paper,  and  when  the 
note  was  written  handed  it  to  the  Banjara,  saying: 
"For  the  young  sahib  at  the  bungalow,  and  if  he  re- 
ceives it  you  will  be  paid  eight  annas  to-morrow." 

The  herdsman  put  the  note  in  his  loin  cloth  and 
strode  away.  At  the  turn  where  Swinton  had  been 
thrown  from  his  dogcart  he  dropped  the  note  over 
the  cliff,  explaining  to  the  sky  his  reasons :  "A  hunt 
is  spoiled  by  too  many  hunters.  It  is  not  well  that 
the  young  sahib  reads  that  they  go  to  Jadoo  Pool — 
it  was  not  so  meant  of  the  gods — and  as  to  the  ser- 
vice, I  have  eaten  no  salt  of  the  sahib's,  having  not 
yet  been  paid." 

The  old  chap  was  naturally  sure  that  Swinton  had 
written  in  the  note  that  the  young  sahib  was  to  join 
them  at  the  pool. 

As  he  plodded  downhill  he  formulated  his  excuse 
for  nondelivery  of  the  note.  It  would  be  that  the 
she-buffalo  had  demanded  his  immediate  care,  and  in 
all  the  worry  and  work  it  had  been  forgotten  and 
then  lost.  It  was  well  to  have  a  fair  excuse  to  tender 
a  sahib  who  put  Punjabi  wrestlers  on  their  backs. 


Chapter  XIV 

AFTER  the  Banjara  had  gone,  Finnerty  said: 
"That's  the  gentle  Hindu  for  you — mixes  his 
mythology  and  data;  he's  found  out  some- 
thing, I  believe,  and  worked  his  fancy  for  the  melo- 
drama of  the  black  leopard  stalking  abroad  at  night." 

"I'm  here  to  follow  up  any  possible  clue  that  may 
lead  to  the  discovery  of  anything,"  Swinton  ob- 
served. 

"Besides,"  the  major  added,  "I  meant  to  take  you 
for  a  sit  up  over  that  pool  some  night ;  many  an  in- 
teresting hour  I've  spent  sitting  in  a  machan  over  a 
pool  watching  jungle  dwellers.  There's  a  salt  lick 
in  Jadoo  Nala,  and  even  bison,  shy  as  they  are,  have 
been  known  to  come  down  out  of  the  big  sal  forest 
to  that  pool.  Nobody  shoots  over  it,  so  that  entices 
the  animals ;  but  Prince  Ananda  has  a  roomy  machan 
there  with  an  electric  light  in  it.  I  suppose  one  of 
his  German  chaps  put  it  in,  for  he  has  an  electric 
lighting  plant  under  the  palace,  also  an  ice-making 
machine.  We'd  better  get  a  couple  of  guns  fixed 
up  in  the  way  of  defence,  for  it  will  be  dark  in  an 
hour  or  so." 

He  went  to  his  room  and  returned  with  a  gun  in 
each  hand,  saying:  "Fine-sighted  rifles  will  be  little 
use;  here's  a  double-barrelled  12-bore  Paradox,  with 
some  ball  cartridges.  We  won't  be  able  to  see  any- 

189 


190  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

thing  beyond  twenty  yards,  and  she'll  shoot  true  for 
that  distance;  I'll  take  this  lo-bore.  Now  we'll  go 
over  into  the  jungle  and  get  some  night  sights." 

Wonderingly  Swinton  accompanied  Finnerty,  and 
just  beyond  the  compound  they  came  to  a  halt  be- 
neath a  drooping  palm,  from  a  graceful  branch  of 
which  a  long,  pear-shaped  nest  swung  gently  back 
and  forth  in  the  evening  breeze.  "This  is  the  nest 
of  the  baya,  the  weaver  bird;  it's  a  beautiful  bit  of 
architecture,"  Finnerty  said  as  he  tapped  with  gen- 
tle fingers  on  the  tailored  nest. 

A  fluttering  rustle  within,  followed  by  the  swoop- 
ing flight  of  a  bird,  explained  his  motive.  "I  didn't 
want  the  little  cuss  to  beat  her  eggs  to  pieces  in 
fright  when  I  put  my  hand  in,"  he  added  softly  as 
he  thrust  two  fingers  up  the  tunnellike  entrance  to  the 
nest,  drawing  them  forth  with  a  little  lump  of  soft 
clay  between  their  tips  in  which  was  imbedded  a  glow- 
worm. "That  will  make  a  most  excellent  night 
sight,"  the  major  explained;  "there  should  be  two 
or  three  more  in  there." 

"What  is  the  idea  of  this  most  extraordinarily 
clever  thing?"  Swinton  asked. 

"It  may  be  food  in  cold  storage,  but  the  natives 
say  it's  a  matter  of  lighting  up  the  house.  At  any 
rate,  I've  always  found  these  glowworms  alive  and 
ready  to  flash  their  little  electric  bulbs." 

As  he  gathered  two  more  nature  incandescents 
Finnerty  indicated  the  beauty  of  the  nest.  The  in- 
sects were  placed  in  the  hall,  or  tunnel  entrance,  and 
above  this,  to  one  side,  like  a  nursery,  was  the  breed- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  191 

ing  nest,  the  whole  structure  being  hung  by  a  net- 
work of  long  grass  and  slender  roots  from  the  branch 
of  the  palm. 

As  they  went  back  to  the  bungalow,  Finnerty,  as 
if  switched  from  the  machinations  of  Prince  Ananda 
by  the  touch  of  nature's  sweet  handicraft  in  the  nest, 
fell  into  a  mood  so  poetically  gentle  that  Swinton 
could  hardly  subdue  a  sense  of  incongruity  in  its  as- 
sociation with  the  huge-framed  speaker.  There  was 
no  doubt  whatever  about  the  pleasing  thrill  of  sin- 
cerity in  his  Irish  voice  as  he  said,  "One  of  my  en- 
joyments is  the  study  of  bird  nidification.  They  run 
true  to  breeding — which  is  more  than  we  do.  On 
that" — he  pointed  to  a  giant  teakwood  monarch  that 
had  fallen  perhaps  a  century  before  and  was  draped 
with  a  beautiful  shroud  of  lichen  and  emerald-green 
moss  that  peeped  from  between  bracken  and  fern — 
"is  the  nest  of  a  little  yellow-bellied  'fly-catcher  war- 
bler' that  is  built  of  brilliant  green  moss  lined  with 
snowy  cotton-silk  from  the  Simul  tree.  See  that  fel- 
low?" and  Finnerty  pointed  to  a  little  scarlet-and- 
black  bird,  its  wings  splashed  with  grey  and  gold, 
sitting  on  a  limb.  "That's  a  Minivet;  she  covers 
her  nest  with  lichens  so  that  on  a  lichen-covered  limb 
it  looks  like  a  knot." 

"Tremendously  wise  are  Nature's  children,"  Swin- 
ton contributed. 

"Generally,"  Finnerty  answered  thoughtfully: 
"sometimes,  though,  her  children  do  such  foolish 
things.  For  instance,  the  Frog-mouth  is  just  as  cun- 
ning about  hiding  her  nest,  covering  it  with  scraps 


192  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

of  bark  and  moss  to  make  it  look  like  the  limb  of 
a  tree,  lining  it  inside  with  down  from  her  own 
breast;  but  there's  a  screw  loose  somewhere,  for  she 
lays  two  eggs  and  the  nest  is  never  big  enough  to 
contain  more  than  one  bird,  so  the  other  one  is 
crowded  out  to  die." 

They  were  at  the  bungalow  now,  and  saying  that 
he  and  Swinton  must  have  a  day  some  time  among 
the  birds  Finnerty  adjusted  the  night  sights.  With 
a  slim  rubber  band  he  fastened  a  match  across  the 
double  .^barrels  at  the  front  sight  and  beneath  this 
placed  a  glowworm. 

As  Finnerty  and  Swinton  went  by  a  jungle  path 
up  the  hill,  the  oncoming  night  was  draping  the  for- 
est with  heavy  gloom. 

"We'll  get  within  sight  of  the  palace  by  this  path," 
the  major  advised,  "and  then  we'll  skirt  around  the 
Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  to  see  if  there  are  indica- 
tions of  things  unusual." 

When  they  came  out  on  the  plateau  they  were  on 
the  road  that  wound  about  the  palace  outside  of  the 
garden  wall,  and  as  they  passed  the  teakwood  gate 
it  looked  forbiddingly  sombre  outlined  against  the 
palace  light.  Swinton  shuddered,  and  through  his 
mind  flashed  a  curious  thought  of  how  so  much 
treacherous  savagery  could  exist  in  the  mind  of  a 
man  capable  of  soft-cultured  speech,  and  who  was  of 
a  pleasing  grace  of  physical  beauty. 

They  circled  the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  till  they 
faced  the  marble  bridge;  here  they  stood  in  the 
shadow  of  a  mango  thicket.  The  moon,  now  climb- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  193 

ing  to  shoot  its  rays  through  the  feathery  tops  of  the 
sal  trees,  picked  out  the  palace  in  blue-grey  tones,  the 
absence  of  lights,  the  pillared  architecture,  giving 
it  the  suggestion  of  a  vast  mausoleum. 

Finnerty  placed  his  hand  on  Swinton's  arm,  the 
clasp  suggesting  he  was  to  listen.  Straining  his  ear, 
he  heard  the  measured  military  tramp  of  men;  then 
their  forms  loomed  grotesquely  in  the  struggling 
moonlight  as  they  crossed  the  marble  bridge  coming 
from  the  palace;  even  in  that  uncertain  light  the 
military  erectness  of  the  figures,  the  heavy,  meas- 
ured tramp  told  Swinton  they  were  Prussians.  Fin- 
nerty and  the  captain  hurried  away,  and  as  they 
passed  around  the  lake  end  to  the  road  a  figure,  or 
perhaps  two,  indefinite,  floated  across  a  patch  of 
moonlight  like  a  drift  of  smoke. 

The  major  spread  his  nostrils.  "Attar  of  rose  I 
Did  you  get  it,  Swinton?" 

"Think  I  did." 

"There's  only  one  woman  on  this  hill  whose 
clothes  are  so  saturated  with  attar." 

"Ananda's  princess?  What  would  she  be  doing 
out  here  at  night?" 

As  they  moved  along,  Finnerty  chuckled:  "What 
are  we  doing  up  here?  What  were  the  Prussians 
doing  in  the  prince's  palace?  What  is  Marie  doing 
here  in  Darpore?  I  tell  you,  captain,  I  wouldn't 
give  much  for  that  girl's  chances  if  the  princess  thinks 
she's  a  rival.  The  princess  comes  from  a  Rajput 
family  that  never  stopped  at  means  to  an  end." 

"It  would  suggest  that  there  is  really  something 


194  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

on  to-night.  Doesn't  Boelke's  bungalow  lie  up  in 
that  direction?" 

"Yes;  and  I  think  it  was  two  women  who  passed; 
probably  it  was  Marie's  ayah  whom  the  Banjara 
referred  to  when  he  said  there  were  always  teeth 
that  could  be  opened  with  a  silver  coin.  Prince 
Ananda  has  not  been  seen  much  with  the  girl,  but 
the  princess  may  have  discovered  that  he  meets  her 
at  the  pool.  It  would  be  a  safe  trysting  place  so 
far  as  chance  discovery  is  concerned,  for  natives 
never  travel  that  path  at  night;  they  believe  that  a 
phantom  leopard  lives  in  the  cave  from  which  the 
salt  stream  issues.  This  is  the  way,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  left  along  a  path  that  dipped  down  in 
gentle  gradient  to  the  beginning  of  Jadoo  Nala, 
which  in  turn  led  on  to  a  valley  that  reached  the 
great  plain. 

Along  this  valley  lay  a  trail,  stretching  from  the 
forest-covered  hills  to  the  plains,  that  had  been  worn 
by  the  feet  of  great  jungle  creatures — bison,  tiger, 
even  elephants,  in  their  migratory  trips,  Finnerty 
told  Swinton,  and  sometimes  they  wandered  up  Jadoo 
Nala  for  a  lick  at  the  salt,  knowing  that  they  were 
never  disturbed. 

There  was  some  bitterness  in  the  major's  low- 
pitched  voice  as  he  said:  "Jadoo  Pool  would  be  an 
ideal  spot  for  pothunters  who  come  out  here  to  kill 
big  game  and  sit  up  in  a  machan  over  a  drinking 
place  to  blaze  away  at  bison  or  tiger,  generally  only 
wounding  the  animal  in  the*  bad  night  light;  if  it's 
a  tiger  he  goes  off  into  the  jungle,  and,  crazed  by  the 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  195 

pain  of  a  festering  sore,  will  kill  on  sight,  and  finally, 
his  strength  and  speed  reduced  by  the  weakening 
wound,  will  turn  to  killing  the  easiest  kind  of  game 
— man;  becomes  a  man-eater.  I  once  shot  a  rogue 
elephant  that  had  killed  a  dozen  people,  and  found 
that  the  cause  of  his  madness  was  a  maggot-filled 
hole  in  his  skull  that  had  been  made  by  a  ball  from 
an  8-bore  in  the  hands  of  a  juvenile  civil  servant, 
fired  at  night." 

Finnerty's  monologue  was  cut  short  by  the 
screeching  bell  of  a  deer.  "A  chital  at  the  pool; 
something,  perhaps  a  leopard  hunting  his  supper,  has 
startled  him,"  he  advised. 

They  moved  forward  softly,  their  feet  scarce 
making  a  rustle  on  the  smooth  path,  and  as  they  came 
to  the  roots  of  a  graceful  pipal  that  stretched  its  lean 
arms  out  over  the  pool,  from  the  opposite  bank  the 
startled  cry  of  the  deer  again  rent  the  brooding 
stillness  as  he  bounded  away,  his  little  hoofs  ringing 
on  the  stony  hill. 

A  light  bamboo  ladder,  strapped  to  the  pipal,  led 
to  a  machan  that  was  hidden  by  a  constructed  wall 
of  twigs  and  grass,  through  which  were  little  open- 
ings that  afforded  a  view  of  the  pool. 

As  they  reached  the  machan,  Finnerty  said:  "As 
we  are  here  to  hear  and  see  only,  I  suppose  that  even 
if  Pundit  Bagh  comes  we  let  him  go  free,  eh?" 

"Yes;  I  really  don't  want  to  kill  anything  while 
I'm  in  Darpore;  that  is,  unless  it's  necessary  to  take 
a  pot  shot  at  a  Hun,  and  I  have  a  feeling  that  we're 


196  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

going  to  see  something  worth  while — that  Banjara 
is  no  fool." 

Then  the  two  men  settled  back  on  the  springy, 
woven  floor  of  the  machan  to  a  wait  in  the  myste- 
rious night  of  a  tropical  jungle.  Stilled,  the  noise  of 
their  own  movements  hushed,  the  silence  of  the 
mighty  forest  was  oppressive;  it  suggested  vastness, 
a  huge  void,  as  though  they  sat  in  a  gigantic  cave, 
themselves  the  only  living  thing  within.  A  dried 
leaf  rustling  to  earth  sounded  like  the  falling  of  a 
large  body;  the  drip  of  dew-drops  on  the  leaf  car- 
pet was  heard  because  of  the  dead  stillness;  a  be- 
lated nightjar,  one  of  those  mysterious  sailors  of  the 
night  air,  swept  across  the  pool  with  his  sad  cry, 
"Chyeece — chyeece!"  Then  the  stillness. 

Swinton,  his  ear  tuned  to  the  outer  distances  of  the 
void,  caught  a  soft  faint  rub-a-dub,  rub-a-dub !  that 
drifted  lazily  up  from  a  village  in  the  plain,  where 
some  native  thrummed  idly  on  a  tom-tom  or  his  wife 
pounded  grain  in  a  clay  mortar.  Then  something 
rustled  the  leaves  just  where  the  little  streamlet 
flowed  sluggishly  from  the  cave  to  the  pool,  and 
something  that  was  a  hare  or  a  mouse-deer  slipped 
across  the  open  space  upon  which  the  moon  swept 
its  soft  light.  To  the  left  a  startled  "bhar-ha-ha  1" 
from  the  bank  above  the  pool  was  followed  by  a 
tattoo  of  tiny  stamping  hoofs  as  a  muntjac,  fright- 
ened by  the  mouse-deer,  gave  this  first  evidence  of 
his  own  approach;  then  he  bounded  away,  leaving 
stillness  to  take  his  place. 

The  boom  of  a  gun  sounded  drowsily  from  down 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  197 

in  the  plains,  some  native,  sitting  up  in  a  machan  to 
guard  his  jowari  or  sugar  cane,  had  fired  his  old 
muzzle-loader  to  frighten  away  greedy  jungle  pigs 
or  bison. 

Swinton  found  the  drowsiness  of  the  brooding 
jungle  creeping  into  his  frame ;  with  difficulty  he  kept 
from  sleep.  He  knew  enough  of  jungle  watching  to 
know  that  he  dare  not  smoke;  the  telltale  odour  of 
burning  tobacco  would  leave  them  indeed  in  their 
solitude.  And  there  was  the  thought  that  something 
was  to  happen,  some  mysterious  thing  to  eventuate; 
the  Banjara  had  not  sent  them  there  to  see  deer 
drinking  at  the  pool  or  even  to  feast  their  eyes  on 
bigger  game. 

What  was  it?  What  was  it?  His  head  drooped 
toward  his  chest;  dreamily  he  heard  the  soft  rustle 
of  something  close;  half  consciously  he  raised  his 
heavy  lids  to  gaze  into  two  big  round  orbs  that 
blazed  with  ruby  light.  On  the  point  of  calling  out, 
he  saw  a  pair  of  white  wings  spread;  there  was  an 
almost  silent  swoop,  and  that  night  hunter,  the  great 
horned  owl,  swept  away.  He  felt  the  pressure  of 
Finnerty's  elbow;  it  was  a  silent  laugh. 

For  five  minutes  the  unruffled  pool  mirrored  the 
moon  in  placid  silence ;  it  lay  beneath  them  like  some 
jewel,  a  moonstone  on  a  deep  green  cloth.  Where 
the  stream  trickled  in  and  out  of  ruts  and  holes  left 
in  the  muddy  shore  by  drinking  animals  the  water 
gleamed  like  scattered  pearls. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  crash  of  breaking  bamboos, 
followed  by  the  heavy  breathing  of  large  animals 


198  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

and  the  shuffling  of  many  feet.  Then  a  herd  of 
bison — two  bulls,  a  few  cows,  and  two  calves — less 
cautious  in  their  enormous  strength,  swept  over  the 
hill  brow  of  the  farther  bank;  there  they  checked 
and  examined  the  pool.  A  big  cow,  followed  by 
two  others  and  the  calves,  clambered  down  to  the 
water,  and  the  scraping  of  their  rough  tongues 
against  the  crusted  salt  lick  could  be  heard.  One 
bull,  his  high  wither  with  its  massive  hump  and 
enormous  head  denoting  his  sex  even  in  the  transient, 
vibrating  shimmers  of  moonlight  the  swaying 
branches  wove  into  the  heavy  gloom,  stood  on  guard, 
his  big  ears  flapping  from  side  to  side  to  catch  every 
sound  of  danger.  The  other  bull,  as  if  depending 
on  the  sentry,  slid  down  the  bank,  took  a  hasty  drink, 
and  returned;  then  the  cows,  with  their  calves,  went 
up  from  the  water,  and  the  herd  melted  like  shadows 
into  the  gloomed  sal  forest. 

Swinton  was  wide  awake  now;  the  majestic  bison, 
the  faithful  bull  on  guard  lest  a  tiger  creep  up  on  the 
calves,  was  a  sight  worth  an  hour  or  two  of  vigil. 

Finnerty's  head  leaned  toward  Swinton  as  he  whis- 
pered: "Gad!  I  wish  I  dared  smoke."  Then,  with 
a  smothered  chuckle:  "If  I  had  turned  on  the  elec- 
tric it  would  have  been  a  sight.  I  wonder  if  the  cur- 
rent is  on;  we  might  need  it  if  there's  a  shindy." 

Like  an  echo  of  the  major's  whisper  a  sound 
floated  up  from  the  heavy  pall  of  darkness  that  lay 
beneath  the  pipal;  it  might  have  been  the  sniff  of  a 
honey  badger,  the  inquisitive,  faint  woof  of  a  bear, 
or  a  muttered  word.  His  hand  resting  on  Swinton' s 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  199 

arm  in  a  tense  grip,  Finnerty  strained  his  ears  to  de- 
fine the  curious  sense  he  had  that  some  one  was 
stealthily  moving  beneath  them.  Once  he  put  a  hand 
on  the  top  rung  of  the  bamboo  ladder;  it  vibrated 
as  though  some  one  leaned  against  it  or  had  com- 
menced to  ascend.  He  slipped  the  butt  of  his  10- 
bore  forward,  ready  for  a  handy,  silent  push  of  de- 
fence. But  still,  he  thought,  if  it  were  Prince  An- 
anda  to  meet  somebody  he  would  wait  below.  With 
a  pang,  Finnerty  realised  who  the  somebody  that  the 
prince  must  meet  so  secretly  would  be. 

A  little  slipping  sound  as  of  a  foot  higher  up  on 
the  path  came  to  the  listeners'  ears;  there  was  the 
tinkle-clink  of  a  pebble  rolling  to  the  stones  below; 
the  rustling  push  of  a  body  passing  from  beneath  the 
pipal  and  along  the  mud  bank  of  the  pool.  Then 
Finnerty  saw,  for  a  second,  an  outlined  figure  where 
the  moon  fell  upon  the  pearllike  cups  of  water;  and 
the  straight,  athletic  Rajput  swing  betrayed  that  it 
was  Darna  Singh.  Then  he  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  shadow  that  lay  heavy  toward  the  cave. 

A  cicada  started  his  shrill  piping  in  a  neighbour- 
ing tree,  awakening  several  of  his  kind,  and  the  hiss- 
ing hum,  raspingly  monotonous,  filled  their  ears. 
Suddenly  it  was  drowned  by  droning  English  words 
that  came  floating  up  from  below,  smothered  to  in- 
distinctness. 

"It  is  the  prince,"  Finnerty  thought. 

Then  there  were  odd  catches  of  a  woman's  voice. 
Distinctly  the  major  heard:  "No,  I  cannot."  The 
man's  tones  had  a  wavering  drawl,  as  though  he 


200  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

pleaded.  More  than  once  the  word  "love,"  with  a 
little  fierce  intonation,  came  to  the  listener.  The 
woman  had  uttered  words  that,  patched  together  out 
of  their  fragmentary  hearing,  told  that  she,  or  some 
one,  would  go  away  the  next  day. 

A  low,  purring  note  carried  to  the  machan  from 
the  cave  mouth. 

Turning  his  head  cautiously,  lest  the  machan  creak, 
Finnerty,  holding  his  eyes  on  the  trickling  stream 
where  it  splashed  into  light,  dread  in  his  heart,  saw 
a  shadow  creep  toward  the  pool,  its  progress  marked 
by  the  blotting  out  of  the  pearllike  spots  of  moon- 
lit water;  then  the  shadow  was  lost,  and  next  he 
heard  the  pushing  pad  of  velvet  paws  upon  the  leaf- 
covered  ground  just  beyond  the  pipal.  Finnerty 
knew.  Only  a  tiger  or  a  leopard  stalked  like  that. 
Now  the  approaching  animal  had  stopped.  There 
was  no  moving  shadow,  no  faint  rustle  of  leaves; 
the  thing  was  eyeing  the  pool — looking  for  some- 
thing to  kill  by  its  brink.  Below,  the  voices  still 
droned,  their  owners  unconscious  of  the  yellow  cat 
eyes  that  perhaps  even  then  watched  them  in  desire. 

To  Finnerty  came  with  full  horror  a  memory  of 
the  Banjara's  words:  "See  the  black  leopard  drink 
at  the  pool  to-night." 

Silently  shifting  his  lo-bore  till  its  muzzle  ranged 
the  side  along  which  the  thing  crept,  he  uncovered 
the  glowworm,  and  a  little  speck  of  luminous  light 
showed  that  it  was  still  alive. 

Swinton,  who  sat  facing  the  other  way,  feeling 


201 

that  there  was  something  stirring,   drew  his  gun 
across  his  knee. 

A  minute,  two  minutes — they  seemed  years  to  Fin- 
nerty — then  he  heard,  deeper  in  the  jungle,  a  bush 
swish  as  if  it  had  been  pushed,  and  in  relief  he  mut- 
tered: "The  brute  must  have  seen  my  movement  and 
has  gone  away." 

For  a  full  minute  of  dread  suspense  the  silence 
held,  save  for  the  rasping  cicada  and  a  droning  voice 
beneath;  then,  from  beyond  where  those  below  stood, 
some  noise  came  out  of  the  gloom — it  might  have 
been  a  small  branch  falling  or  the  scamper  of  a  star- 
tled jungle  rat.  Holding  his  eyes  on  the  spot,  Fin- 
nerty  saw  two  round  balls  of  light  gleam — yellow 
green,  as  if  tiny  mirrors  reflected  the  moonlight. 
They  disappeared,  then  glowed  again ;  they  rose  and 
fell.  With  a  chill  at  his  heart  he  knew  that  the  beast, 
with  devilish  cunning,  had  circled,  and  now  ap- 
proached from  the  side  farthest  from  the  machan, 
Swinging  his  gun,  with  a  prayer  that  the  current  was 
on,  he  turned  the  electric  button;  a  splash  of  white 
light  cut  the  jungle  gloom,  and  where  his  eyes 
searched  was  outlined  in  strong  relief,  crouched  for 
a  spring,  a  black  leopard.  Turned  up  to  the  sudden 
glare,  ghastly  in  the  white  light,  was  the  face  of 
Lord  Victor;  at  his  side,  clutching  his  arm,  with 
her  eyes  riveted  on  the  leopard,  stood  Marie. 

Values  flashed  through  Finnerty's  mind  with  light- 
ning speed.  He  had  expected  the  jungle  dweller  to 
flee  when  the  electric  glare  lit  up  the  scene,  but  the 
leopard  was  unafraid;  he  even  crept  a  pace  closer 


S02  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

to  those  below.  His  forepaws  gripped  nervously  at 
the  ground  in  a  churning  movement;  his  tail  stiff- 
ened; but  before  he  could  rise  in  a  flying  tackle  a 
-stream  of  red  light  belched  from  Swinton's  gun; 
there  was  a  coughing  roar  telling  of  a  hit,  and 
the  leopard,  turned  by  the  shot,  bounded  into  the  jun- 
gle, his  crashing  progress  growing  fainter  as  he  fled. 
Then  darkness  closed  out  the  scene  of  almost  trag- 
edy, for  Finnerty  had  turned  the  switch. 

On  the  point  of  calling  in  assurance,  Swinton  was 
checked  by  the  sudden  death  of  the  light;  he  under- 
stood the  major's  motive. 

The  two  sat  still,  while  Finnerty,  his  grasp  on 
Swinton's  shoulder,  whispered  into  his  ear:  "The 
leopard  is  wounded;  he  won't  turn  now  that  he  has 
started  to  run;  let  them  get  away  without  knowing 
who  saw  them,  for  they're  in  no  danger." 

There  came  the  sound  of  feet  going  with  stum- 
bling speed  up  the  path  as  Marie,  dreading  discov- 
ery more  than  the  terrors  of  the  jungle  path,  clutch- 
ing Gilfain's  hand,  fled. 

After  a  little,  Finnerty  said:  "Fancy  we  may  go 
back  now.  I  wonder  how  much  of  this  business  the 
Banjara  knew;  how  much  of  it  is  a  twist  of  fate  up- 
setting somebody's  plans."  And  as  they  climbed  the 
hill  path  from  Jadoo  Nala  he  continued:  "To-mor- 
row morning  we'll  follow  the  pugs  of  that  black 
devil;  there'll  be  blood  enough  for  the  shikari  to 
track  him  down,  I  think ;  he'll  have  stiffened  up  from 
his  wound  by  then  and  we'll  get  him." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  203 

With  irrelevance  the  captain  blurted,  in  a  voice 
filled  with  disgust:  "That  young  ass!" 

Finnerty  laughed  softly.  "The  dear  old  earl  sent 
him  to  India  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  skirts.  It  can't 
be  done!" 

"But  how  did  he  get  a  meeting  with  that  foolish 
virgin;  he's  only  been  here  three  days!  And  how 
did  the  Banjara  know,  and  how  did — oh,  one's  life 
here  is  a  damn  big  query  mark!" 

"I  should  say  that  there's  been  a  note  written, 
either  by  the  girl  to  his  giddy  lordship  or  vice  versa ; 
Darna  Singh  has  made  the  mistake  of  supposing 
Prince  Ananda  was  the  man  she  was  to  meet;  that's 
why  the  black  leopard  was  turned  loose." 

"Do  you  think  it  really  was  the  prince's  beast?" 

"Yes;  that's  why  he  didn't  run  when  the  light 
flashed.  He's  accustomed  to  it  in  the  zoo  grounds. 
But  it  was  a  fiendish  caper,  and  Gilfain  is  fortunate." 

"I  think  it  proves  the  girl  is  a  spy;  she  probably, 
at  the  prince's  suggestion,  led  the  young  fool  on. 

I'm  glad  he  doesn't  know  anything  about " 

Swinton  broke  off  suddenly,  as  the  heavy  gloom  of 
the  forest  interior  was  brushed  aside  like  a  curtain, 
disclosing  to  their  eyes  a  fairy  scene — the  prince's 
palace. 

The  moon,  which  had  leaped  high  above  the  bar- 
rier  of  the  forest,  poured  a  flood  of  yellow  light 
across  the  open  plateau,  gilding  with  gold  leaf  the 
mosquelike  dome  roof  of  a  turret  and  shimmering  a 
white  marble  minaret  till  it  sparkled  like  a  fretwork 
thing  of  silver.  The  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  was 


204  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

a  maze  of  ribboned  colours  where  the  mahseer  rose 
to  its  surface  in  play  or  in  pursuit  of  night  flies.  A 
dreamy  quiet  lay  over  all  the  mass  of  gleaming  white 
and  purple  shadow  as  they  swung  to  the  road  that 
circled  the  gardens.  Coming  to  the  big  teakwood 
gate,  Finnerty  clutched  the  captain's  arm,  bringing 
him  to  a  halt  as  a  sigh  from  its  rusty  hinges  told  it 
had  just  been  closed  by  some  one. 

"I  saw  him,"  Finnerty  whispered  as  they  passed 
on.  "It  was  Ananda,  I  swear." 

Over  the  walls  floated  the  perfume  of  rose  and 
jasmine  and  tuberose;  so  sensuous,  so  drugged  the 
heavy  night  air  that  it  suggested  unreality,  mysti- 
cism, dreams,  and  beyond,  rounding  a  curve,  to  their 
nostrils  came  the  pungent,  acrid  smell  of  a  hookah 
from  the  servants'  quarters.  Even  deeper  of  the 
Orient,  of  the  subtle  duplicity  of  things,  was  this. 

Swinton  spat  on  the  roadway,  and  Finnerty,  know- 
ing it  as  a  token  of  disgust,  muttered:  "Ali  Baba  and 
the  Forty  Thieves." 

As  they  dipped  down  a  hill  toward  the  path  that 
led  to  Finnerty's  bungalow  they  came  upon  Lord 
Victor's  horse  leisurely  dawdling  along,  stopping  at 
times  for  a  juicy  snack  from  some  succulent  bush, 
and  altogether  loafing,  a  broken  rein  dangling  from 
the  bit  to  occasionally  bring  him  up  with  a  jerk  as  he 
stepped  on  it.  At  their  approach  he  scuttled  off  into 
the  jungle. 

"Gilfain's  nag!"  Finnerty  commented.  "Wishing 
to  keep  this  meeting  secret,  he's  left  the  syce  at  home 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  205 

and  tied  the  pony  to  a  tree  up  there  somewhere ;  the 
shot  probably  frightened  it." 

"What's  the  horse  doing  on  this  road?"  Swinton 
asked. 

"It's  a  shorter  cut  down  to  the  maharajah's  stables 
in  Darpore  town  than  by  the  tonga  road.  Lord  Vic- 
tor will  have  to  walk;  we  couldn't  catch  that  hare- 
brained  weed  even  if  we  wanted  to." 

"Come  on,  major,"  Swinton  cried,  pushing  for- 
ward; "I've  got  an  idea.  You  give  me  a  horse  and 
I'll  gallop  back  to  my  bungalow,  getting  there  ahead 
of  the  young  ass." 

"I  see,"  Finnerty  grunted  as  they  strode  swiftly 
along.  "You'll  tell  his  lordship  that  you've  been  in 
bed  for  hours,  and  let  him  guess  who  was  his  audi- 
ence at  Jadoo  Pool.  The  Banjara  didn't  deliver  that 
note  or  his  lordship  wouldn't  have  been  there." 

As  they  hurried  along,  Swinton  panted:  "Devil  of 
a  hole  for  a  flirtation;  he  must  be  an  enthusiast  I" 

They  swung  into  the  bungalow,  and  Finnerty  sent 
the  watchman  to  have  a  syce  bring  "Phyu,"  adding 
that  if  there  was  delay  a  most  proper  beating  would 
eventuate.  As  the  watchman  hurried  away  on  his 
mission  the  major  said:  "Phyu  is  a  Shan  pony;  he'* 
only  thirteen  hands,  but  you  can  gallop  him  down 
that  hill  without  fear  of  bucking  his  shins,  and  you 
couldn't  do  that  with  an  Arab." 

While  they  waited,  Finnerty  explained:  "The  girl 
made  that  appointment  for  some  reason.  She  would 
know  that  nobody  would  see  them  together  there, 
as  natives  don't  travel  that  path  at  night,  and  she 


206  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

would  know  that  tiger  and  leopard  do  not  ordinarily 
come  to  the  pool." 

"How  did  the  Banjara  know?" 

"India,  my  dear  boy — and  servants;  but  he  only 
half  knew  at  that ;  he  thought  it  would  be  the  prince. 
I  think  even  if  Lord  Victor  did  kill  his  dog,  having 
been  paid  for  it,  had  he  known  a  sahib  was  the  pro- 
posed victim  he  would  have  told  us." 

A  grey,  sturdy  Shan  pony,  led  by  a  running  syce, 
dashed  around  the  bungalow,  and  as  Swinton. 
mounted,  Finnerty  said:  "I'll  send  for  Mahadua 
right  away  and  make  ready  for  a  peep-o'-day  follow- 
up  of  that  wounded  leopard;  we  can't  let  him  roam 
to  kill  natives.  Meet  me  at  the  top  of  the  tonga 
road  at  daybreak.  In  the  meantime — well,  you  know 
how  to  handle  his  lordship." 

Then  the  captain  pounded  down  the  mountain 
road  at  an  unreasonable  rate,  though  his  speed  was 
really  unnecessary,  for,  clad  in  pajamas,  he  had  half 
finished  a  long  cheroot  in  an  armchair  on  the  ve- 
randah when  he  saw  the  form  of  Gilfain  coming 
wearily  up  the  gravelled  road. 

When  Swinton  knocked  the  ash  from  his  cheroot, 
disclosing  the  lighted  end,  the  pedestrian  acquired 
an  instantaneous  limp;  his  rather  lethargic  mentality 
was  quickened  by  an  inspiration,  and  he  hobbled  up 
the  steps  and  along  the  verandah  at  a  pathetic  pace. 

"Been  long  home,  anxious  guardian?"  he  gasped, 
sinking  into  a  chair. 

"About  an  hour,"  Swinton  answered  blithely. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  207 

"I  got  moony  lonesome,"  Lord  Victor  explained 
as  the  smoker  evinced  no  curiosity. 

"And  went  for  a  walk,  eh?  Where  did  you  go 
— down  to  the  bazaar?" 

Even  to  Gilfain's  unperceptive  mind  the  opening 
for  a  sweeping  lie  seemed  a  trifle  too  wide.  Indeed, 
the  fact  that  he  had  on  riding  boots  was  rather 
against  this  proposition.  He  didn't  answer  at  once, 
a  twinge  in  his  newly  injured  ankle  giving  him  an 
opportunity  for  a  pause. 

"You  didn't  see  my  syce  about,  did  you?"  he  asked 
as  a  feeler. 

"No;  why — weren't  you  walking?" 

"No ;  I  went  for  a  bit  of  a  ride — down  by  the  river 
— and  just  where  the  road  forks  over  by  that  nala 
where  we  took  the  elephant  after  the  tiger  something 
sprang  out  of  the  jungle,  let  an  awful  roar  out  of 
him,  and  that  fool  country  bred  of  mine  bolted — 
he's  a  superb  ass  of  a  horse — jinked  at  a  shadow, 
and  went  over  a  cut  bank  into  a  little  stream  kind  of 
a  place ;  I  came  a  cropper,  with  my  foot  caught  in  a 
stirrup,  and  was  dragged  a  bit.  In  fact,  I  went  by- 
by  for  a  few  minutes.  How  the  devil  my  foot  came 
out  of  the  stirrup  I  don't  know.  When  I  came  to 
that  three-toed  creature  they  call  a  horse  had  van- 
ished, and  it's  taken  me  rather  well  over  an  hour 
to  limp  back." 

Then  the  cripple,  holding  his  ankle  in  both  hands 
across  his  knee,  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  eyes 
closed  as  if  in  agony,  inwardly  muttering:  "Gad!  I 
wonder  if  that  bally  romance  hangs  together." 


208  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"Was  it  a  tiger  or  a  leopard?"  Swinton  asked  in 
an  even  voice. 

"I — I  rather  fancy  it  was  a  leopard.  I  didn't  see 
overmuch  of  the  silly  brute,  my  mount  being  in  such 
an  ecstasy  of  fright." 

"What  about  the  syce;  perhaps  the  leopard  nailed 
him?"  the  captain  asked  solicitously. 

"Hardly  think  it;  I  didn't  see  the  bloomer  after  I 
left  the  bungalow.  Oh!"  It  was  the  ankle. 

This  cry  of  pain  galvanised  Swinton  into  compas- 
sion; it  also  gave  him  an  idea  of  how  to  mete  out 
retribution  to  the  awful  liar  beside  him. 

"We've  got  to  fix  up  that  ankle  right  away,"  he 
declared,  rising. 

"Oh,  don't  bother,  old  chap;  I'll  just  bathe  it." 

"Worst  thing  you  could  do,"  Swinton  declared 
professionally.  "I've  got  a  powerful  white  liniment; 
it  stings  like  the  juice  of  Hades.  Probably  peel  the 
bark  off,  but  it  will  prevent  swelling." 

With  a  sigh  Lord  Victor  surrendered,  and  Swin- 
ton, bringing  out  his  bottle,  rubbed  the  romancer's 
ankle  until  he  groaned — not  from  an  imaginative 
pain.  Then  the  limb  was  bound  up  in  a  bandage 
that  all  but  checked  the  circulation. 

"Feel  better  now;  that  give  you  relief?"  And 
Swinton's  voice  was  as  solicitously  tender  as  a 
mother's. 

"Oh,  yes — thanks!"  And  inwardly  the  exasper- 
ated patient  swore. 

Of  course  a  whiskey  and  soda  was  part  of  the 
treatment,  doctor  and  patient  both  taking  the  medi- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  209 

cine.  As  they  sipped,  the  patient  asked  cautiously: 
"What  did  you  and  the  major  do  in  the  evening?" 

"Oh,  we  took  a  stroll  up  on  the  hill." 

"Eh,  what!  Oh,  heavens — my  ankle!"  The 
guilty  conscience  had  all  but  betrayed  its  possessor. 
"Go  up  to  see  the  prince?"  he  asked,  his  voice  hold- 
ing an  assumed  casualness. 

"We  didn't  go  quite  that  far."  Gilfain  breathed 
easier.  "Finnerty  is  a  great  chap  on  birds'  nests, 
and  we  saw  some  rather  curious  ones." 

Lord  Victor,  in  sudden  inspiration,  put  his  hand 
on  Swinton's  arm  and  gave  it  a  knowing  pinch.  "You 
didn't  happen  to  meet  fraulein,  old  boy,  did  you?" 
And  he  laughed. 

"Not  bad,  by  Jove!"  Swinton  confided  to  himself; 
then  aloud:  "I'm  not  interested;  also  I'm  going  to 
bed.  I  believe  I'll  take  a  gun  early  in  the  morning 
and  see  if  I  can  pick  up  the  tracks  of  that  leopard." 

"What  leopard?" 

"The  one  that — that — charged  your  pony." 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course.  But  Lord  bless  me,  man,  he 
may  be  miles  away  by  the  morning." 

"Come  on,  Gilfain;  I'll  give  you  an  arm  in  to  bed. 
You  hadn't  better  get  up  in  the  morning.  In  fact, 
you'd  better  lie  up  all  day  to-morrow;  in  this  hot 
climate  a  wrench  like  that  may  produce  black  in- 
flammation." 

"Black  inflammation  sounds  good,  anyway,"  Swin- 
ton thought  as  the  young  man,  leaning  heavily  on  his 
arm,  hobbled  to  his  bedroom. 

Swinton  fell  asleep  pondering  over  the  proverbial 


210  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

thought  that  no  man  can  serve  two  masters,  he  be- 
ing that  no  man  in  his  now  divided  duty.  In  the 
earl's  interests  he  should  remove  that  nobleman's 
son  from  the  vicinity  of  Fraulein  Marie  at  once.  A 
most  dangerous  woman  she  was,  no  doubt.  In  the 
interest  of  his  real  master,  the  government,  he  should 
stay  on  the  spot  and  nip  Ananda's  intrigue. 


Chapter  XV 

SWINTON  had  left  instructions  to  be  wakened 
before  the  first  raucous-voiced  crow  had  opened 
his  piratical  beak,  so,  in  the  chill  dawn  half 
light,  a  grey  mist  from  the  river  bed  still  hovering 
like  a  shroud  over  the  plain,  the  voice  of  his  bearer 
calling  softly:  "Sahe-e-b !  Sahe-e-b!"  brought  him 
out  of  a  deep  slumber.  Dressing,  he  chuckled  over 
the  apocryphal  sprained  ankle  that  had  relieved  him 
of  Lord  Victor's  company  or  offer  of  it.  Passing  that 
young  nobleman's  room,  lamp  in  hand,  he  saw, 
through  the  open  door,  a  very  red  ankle,  devoid  of 
its  bandage,  hanging  over  the  bed.  Swinton  chuckled, 
muttering:  "Bad  patient!" 

His  horse  was  waiting,  and  with  a  rifle  across  the 
saddle  he  went  up  the  hill,  meeting  Finnerty,  with 
whom  was  Mahadua,  at  the  appointed  place. 

"We'll  leave  our  gee-gees  here  with  the  syces," 
Finnerty  said,  "and  Mahadua  will  take  us  by  a  short- 
cut path  along  the  edge  of  the  hill  to  Jadoo  Pool." 

At  Jadoo  Pool,  they  rested  while  Mahadua,  as 
keen  as  a  "black  tracker,"  searched  the  ground  for 
the  leopard's  trail. 

Finnerty  had  imparted  to  the  shikari  nothing  be- 
yond the  fact  that  a  leopard  had  been  seen  in  that  im- 
mediate vicinity,  and  it  was  supposed  he  was  wound- 
ed. The  shikari  had  declared  emphatically  that  it 

211 


212  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

would  prove  to  be  the  leopard  with  the  man-eater's 
rosettes,  and,  no  doubt,  was  the  animal  that  came  out 
of  the  cave,  giving  rise  to  the  belief  that  a  ghost 
homed  there. 

First,  Mahadua  passed  to  the  plastic  clay  banks 
of  the  little  stream  that  trickled  into  the  pool;  there 
he  picked  up  the  pugs  of  a  leopard,  following  them 
unerringly  to  where  the  cunning  brute  had  backed 
away  and  circled  when  he  saw  Finnerty  in  the 
machan.  On  this  circling  trail  a  stick  freshly  turned, 
a  nestlike  hollow  in  the  loose  leaves  where  a  soft 
paw  had  pushed,  guided  the  tracker,  so  close  to  in- 
stinct in  his  faculties,  till  he  came  upon  blood  spots 
and  torn-up  earth  where  the  leopard  had  been  shot. 

For  twenty  minutes  Finnerty  and  Swinton  waited, 
and  then  Mahadua  came  back,  saying:  "Chita  has 
been  shot  in  a  hind  leg,  for  his  jumps  in  running  are 
not  big,  and  though  he  went  to  the  deep  jungle  at  first 
he  is  now  back  at  the  cave." 

As  they  went  up  Jadoo  Nala  there  were  no  blood 
spots  on  its  stony  bed,  but  Mahadua  explained: 
"Chita  remained  hid  in  the  jungle  for  a  time,  and  the 
bleeding  stopped." 

Coming  to  the  doorlike  entrance  of  the  cave,  Fin- 
nerty peered  cautiously  in,  and,  seeing  nothing,  passed 
beyond,  his  eyes  searching  for  tracks.  A  dozen  paces 
and  a  sibilant  whistle  from  behind  whirled  him  about 
to  see  Mahadua  facing  the  opening,  his  little  axe 
poised  for  a  blow  of  defence. 

When  Finnerty,  cocking  both  barrels  of  his  Para- 
dox, raced  back,  the  shikari  said:  "Chita  stuck  his 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

head  out  to  look  at  the  sahib's  back,  but  when  I 
whistled  he  disappeared." 

"Was  it  'Spots'  or  a  black  leopard,  Mahadua?" 

"Black,  sahib,"  he  answered. 

"A  black  leopard  is  the  most  vicious  thing  on 
earth,"  Finnerty  said  in  English,  his  gun  holding 
guard,  "and  one  wounded  and  in  a  cave  is  a  matter 
for  consideration." 

"He  won't  come  out;  that's  sure,"  Swinton  com- 
mented. 

"Not  before  night — if  we're  here — and  we  can't 
afford  the  time  to  wait  that  long." 

"Smoke  him  out,"  Swinton  suggested. 

"Difficult;  smoke  won't  go  where  you  want  it  to, 
but  I'll  ask  Mahadua  if  it's  possible." 

"The  cave  is  too  big,"  the  shikari  replied  to  the 
query. 

"How  big?"  Swinton  asked  with  sudden  interest. 

"I  don't  know,"  and  the  native's  eyes  were  eva- 
sive. "I  have  heard  it  said  that  the  cave  went  far 
in,  but  I  have  no  desire  to  go  into  the  home  of  the 
spirits." 

"My  Rampore  hounds  would  draw  him,"  Fin- 
nerty said  thoughtfully;  "but  I  don't  want  to  get 
them  mauled — perhaps  killed." 

The  name  Rampore  conveyed  to  Mahadua  the 
sahib's  meaning,  though  the  English  words  were  un- 
intelligible. "The  Banjara  would  send  in  dogs  if 
the  sahib  would  pay  him  well,"  he  suggested. 

"He  would  not  risk  his  Banjara  hounds,"  the 
major  objected. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"True,  huzoor,  but  he  also  has  'bobbery'  dogs — 
half  Banjara  breed — and  they  being  trained  to  the 
hunt  will  go  in  after  the  wounded  chita." 

"It's  a  good  idea,  Swinton,"  Finnerty  declared. 
"We've  done  the  very  thing  I  was  bucking  about 
last  night;  we've  set  adrift  a  wounded  leopard  who'll 
likely  turn  man-eater  if  he  doesn't  die  and  we'll  be 
responsible  for  every  native  he  kills." 

"We've  simply  got  to  finish  him  off,"  Swinton 
concurred. 

"We  must.  If  you'll  wait  here  with  the  shikari, 
keeping  your  eye  on  that  hole  so  he  doesn't  sneak 
away,  I'll  pick  up  my  horse  and  gallop  down  to  get 
the  Banjara  and  his  'bobbery  pack.' ' 

Perhaps  the  going  of  Finnerty,  with  his  large  vir- 
ility, had  taken  something  of  mental  sustenance  from 
the  shikari,  for  he  now  lost  somewhat  his  buoyant 
nonchalance. 

"Sit  you  here,  sahib,  on  this  flat  rock,"  he  advised, 
"for  here  you  face  well  the  cave  door,  and  if  the 
evil  brute  makes  a  sudden  rush  you  will  have  an 
advantage.  As  to  the  dogs,  if  it  is  a  bhut  they  will 
not  enter  the  cave,  and  if  they  do  enter  it  will  be 
because  the  spirit  has  gone." 

"But,  Mahadua,  we  saw  him.  How  will  he  dis- 
appear through  the  rock  walls  of  a  cave?" 

"As  to  the  ways  of  a  bhut  not  even  the  priest  at 
my  village  of  Gaum  could  say  aught." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  spirit,  Mahadua?"  Swinton 
queried,  with  the  double  purpose  of  whiling  away 
the  time  as  they  waited  and  drawing  from  the  man 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  g!5 

one  of  those  eerie  tales  that  originate  with  the  half- 
wild  forest  dwellers. 

"Sahib,  I  never  saw  my  father,  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  I  had  one ;  it  was  said  that  he  died  before 
I  was  born,  and  I  believe  it." 

"Well,  did  you  then  know  of  one  from  people  you 
believed  in?" 

"Yes,  sahib.  The  priest  of  Gaum,  which  is  my 
village,  knew  well  the  tiger  that  was  named  the  'One 
Who  Looks  Up.'  You  know,  sahib,  a  tiger  when  he 
walks  through  the  jungle  never  looks  up  at  the  trees, 
there  being  nothing  there  in  the  way  of  his  food 
nor  that  he  fears;  though  if  he  be  shot  at  from  a 
machan,  after  that,  if  he  catches  in  his  nostrils  the 
taint  of  a  sahib,  he  will  remember,  and  will  see  such 
a  trap." 

"Tell  me  of  the  One  Who  Looks  Up,"  Swinton 
begged. 

"He  was  a  man-killer,  Sahib,  and  one  day  he 
killed  a  woodsman,  but  was  disturbed  before  he  had 
eaten  the  poor  fellow,  and  went  away,  the  man's 
bhut  going  with  him.  A  Dep'ty  Sahib  had  a  machan 
put  in  a  tree  above  the  body,  and  sitting  there  in  the 
moonlight  he  saw  bagh  creeping  toward  his  victim; 
but  before  the  Dep'ty  Sahib  could  shoot  the  dead 
man's  arm  lifted  up,  and  a  finger  pointed  at  the 
machan.  Bagh  looked  up,  and  seeing  the  Dep'ty 
Sahib  fled. 

The  shikari's  voice  suddenly  dropped  to  a  whis- 
per, and  without  the  move  of  a  muscle  he  said :  "Look 
at  the  cave  mouth  and  you  will  see  chita  watching 


216  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

you.     Move  very  slow  and  you  may  get  a  shot." 

Swinton's  gun  was  lying  across  his  knee,  and  gent- 
ly pulling  back  the  hammers  he  slowly  carried  the 
stock  toward  his  shoulder.  As  their  eyes  met,  the 
leopard's  lip  curled  in  a  snarl  that  bared  his  hooked 
fangs,  and  his  ears  flattened  back,  giving  the  head 
a  cobra-like  look.  Inch  by  inch  the  gun  crept  up- 
ward, the  unblinking  eyes  viewing  this  move  with 
malevolent  interest. 

As  the  stock  touched  Swinton's  shoulder  he 
drooped  his  head  to  train  his  eye  along  the  sights, 
for  the  shot  must  go  true  to  the  small  brain  beneath 
that  sloping  skull,  or,  stung  by  the  wound,  the  leop- 
ard would  charge  and  there  would  be  no  escape 
from  a  mauling;  but  his  eye,  travelling  along  the  bar- 
rels, looked  into  the  dark  void  of  the  cave.  In  a. 
brief  second  the  cunning  beast  had  vanished. 

"He  will  not  return  for  some  time,  sahib;  he 
knows  what  a  gun  is.  Perhaps  even  it  is  a  spirit," 
the  shikari  said. 

Dropping  the  gun  to  his  knee  Swinton  asked: 
"What  was  the  end  of  the  One  Who  Looks  Up?" 

"The  Dep'ty  Sahib  was  a  man  of  resource,  and 
coming  down  he  pegged  to  the  ground  both  arms  of 
the  one  whose  bhut  had  gone  with  the  tiger;  then, 
as  he  waited  in  the  machan,  the  tiger  came  back, 
thinking  the  sahib  would  have  gone,  and,  as  the 
dead  man  gave  him  no  sign,  crept  close  up,  when  the 
Dep'ty  Sahib  killed  him." 

"And  you  believe  that  story  is  true,  Mahadua?" 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  217 

"The  guru  says  it  is ;  but  whether  it  is  true  or  not 
matters  only  to  the  one  who  is  devoured." 

For  some  time  Mahadua  sat  facing  the  cave,  turn- 
ing over  in  his  mind  a  little  business  venture;  then 
raising  his  head,  he  looked  into  Swinton's  dead-blue 
eyes,  only  to  turn  away  in  blinking  haste  before  their 
disconcerting  inertia.  He  coughed,  adjusted  his  lit- 
tle brown  cap,  and  said:  "Sahib,  as  to  this  one  in 
the  cave  we  shall  know  when  the  dogs  come  if  it  is 
a  spirit;  but  if  we  had  made  an  offering  to  the  shrine, 
or  even  promised  Safed  Jan,  who  guards  the  moun- 
tain pass,  a  goat  in  sacrifice,  all  might  have  been 
well." 

"It  is  too  late  now,"  Swinton  suggested. 

"If  the  sahib  will  bestow  a  silver  rupee  for  the 
sacrifice  of  a  goat  to  Safed  Jan,  Mahadua  will  make 
a  ceremony  over  the  gun  and  the  bullet  will  not  be 
turned  by  the  spirit." 

Swinton  smiled  at  this  wily  touch  while  the  man's 
master  was  away,  but  drawing  forth  a  rupee  he  be- 
stowed it  upon  the  man  who  had  capitalised  a  spirit. 
Very  gravely  Mahadua  plucked  a  handful  of  grass, 
and,  wrapping  the  coin  in  this,  rubbed  it  along  the 
barrels  of  Swinton's  gun,  tapped  the  locks  with  it, 
and  then  slipped  the  rupee  into  his  jacket  pocket, 
saying  in  a  voice  blithesome  with  relief — or  cupidity: 
"If  Safad  Jan  has  observed,  luck  will  follow." 

Pariah-like  yowls  came  up  the  pass,  and  Finnerty, 
with  the  herdsman  and  his  brother  holding  in  leash 
six  dogs,  appeared.  The  pack  was  a  motley  one,  a 
canine  kaleidoscope  that,  as  it  tumbled  in  the  sun- 


218  THE  THREE  SAPPHIKES 

shine,  showed  all  the  various  hues  of  ancestry  from 
red  Irish  terrier  to  mizzled  collie.  One  had  a  bull- 
dog head  and  the  lank,  scraggy  body  of  a  village 
pariah;  two  had  the  powerfully  boned  frame  of  the 
Banjara  hound;  but  all  showed  the  uncertain,  treach- 
erous temper  of  their  pariah  cross. 

Each  dog  was  held  by  a  rawhide  leash  fastened  to 
a  wide  leather  collar  studded  with  iron  spikes  to 
prevent  a  leopard  from  taking  his  favourite  jugular- 
severing  jaw  grip  of  the  neck. 

As  he  sat  down  for  a  minute's  rest,  the  major  said: 
"I  fancy  this  may  cost  me  a  pretty  penny  for  my 
friend,  the  herdsman,  has  made  me  agree  to  pay  ten. 
rupees  for  each  dog  killed,  and  five  apiece  for  the 
mauled  ones.  He  was  deuced  curious  over  the 
night's  work,  but  I  told  him  we  saw  no  one.  He  ad- 
mitted that  he  didn't  deliver  the  note  to  Lord  Vic- 
tor, saying  he  had  lost  it." 

"Do  you  think  by  any  chance  he  had  an  inkling 
Lord  Victor  was  going  there,  and  didn't  want  him 
to  know  we'd  be  there?" 

"No.  He  says  we  saw  no  one  because  we  spoiled 
the  hunt  by  going  like  a  marriage  procession;  that 
we  went  by  the  road,  and  that  his  brother,  the  watch- 
man, saw  Prince  Ananda  watching  us,  both  going 
and  coming." 

"The  sahib  will  have  rested  now,  and  the  sun  is 
hot,"  the  Banjara  interposed. 

Finnerty,  rising,  placed  the  men;  Swinton  behind 
the  flat  boulder  he  had  sat  on,  and  from  the  top  of 
which  his  gun  would  range  the  cave  mouth ;  two  con- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  219 

venient  trees  were  allotted  to  Mahadua,  the  herds- 
man, and  his  brother  when  the  dogs  had  been  slipped. 
Finnerty  would  stand  on  some  ground  a  little  higher 
where  he  could  rake  the  nala,  both  up  and  down, 
should  the  leopard  bolt. 

The  dogs  had  been  given  a  noseful  of  the  leop- 
ard's trail,  and,  when  they  were  slipped,  with  a 
chorus  of  yelps  they  made  for  the  cave,  while  their 
owner  slipped  nimbly  to  his  allotted  tree.  It  was 
a  tense  moment;  the  Banjara,  perched  on  the  lower 
limb  of  a  mhowa,  was  avariciously  hoping  the  leop- 
ard would  kill  the  whole  pack,  for  at  ten  rupees  a 
head  they  were  better  dead. 

Mahadua's  face  grew  grave  as,  instead  of  the  tu- 
mult of  a  fierce  battle,  stillness  held  within  the  cav- 
ern; the  eager  yelps  of  the  dogs  as  they  had  scrambled 
over  lose  stones  to  enter  the  cave  had  ceased.  The 
leopard  was,  no  doubt,  a  spirit,  and  had  perhaps 
hushed  the  dogs.  At  any  rate,  a  flesh-and-blood 
leopard  would  now  be  giving  battle  and  voices  of 
pain  and  passion  would  be  filling  the  cavern  with 
cries. 

Finnerty  was  muttering:  "Damn  if  I  can  make  it 
out;  it's  a  rummy  go!" 

At  that  instant  the  pack  came  stringing  out,  and 
the  leader  stood  looking  wonderingly  at  the  sahibs. 

"They  are  afraid,"  Mahadua  jeered;  "they  went 
in  thinking  it  was  a  hare.  Oh,  they  are  a  true  Ban- 
jara pack!" 

The  herdsman  put  a  hand  on  a  long  knife  in  his 
beltj»and  with  fury  in  his  eyes  said:  "Will  the  Pres- 


220  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

ence  take  a  slipper  to  this  monkey's  mouth  or  shall 
I  open  its  windpipe  ?  The  leopard  is  not  within,  for 
my  dogs  do  not  lie." 

The  pack  was  now  running  about  in  the  silly,  aim- 
less manner  of  "gaze"  dogs  where  there  is  no  quarry 
to  see,  and  only  a  scent  that  is  cold  to  their  very 
dull  nose-sense. 

The  shikari  pointed  this  out,  saying:  "Keeper  of 
mud  cows,  if  the  leopard  had  but  just  passed  out  in 
the  fear  of  your  coming  he  would  have  left  a  fresh 
scent  trail  that  even  your  dogs,  who  hunt  but  by  the 
eye,  would  have  found,  and  if  the  chita  is  not  a 
spirit  he  is  still  within." 

The  Banjara  drew  his  long,  vicious  knife,  but  as 
Finnerty  grasped  his  arm  he  said,  pointing  in  disdain 
at  Mahadua:  "This  is  a  knife  for  game,  not  for 
cutting  the  throat  of  a  chicken ;  I  go  into  the  cave  to 
prove  that  of  dog  or  shikari  the  shikari  is  the 
liar." 

At  this  his  brother  also  drew  a  knife,  and,  calling 
to  the  dogs,  who  sprang  at  his  bidding  to  the  cave, 
the  two  Banjaras  followed  at  their  heels. 

"We  might  have  a  look;  it's  altogether  myste- 
rious," Finnerty  said,  turning  to  the  captain. 

The  latter  nodded.  "I've  got  an  idea ;  we'd  bet- 
ter go  in  1" 

They  passed  into  a  long,  narrow  chamber — so 
long  that  it  reached  into  deep  gloom,  with  no  end 
wall  showing.  They  could  see  the  dogs  pass  into 
the  mysterious  black  shadow  beyond  and  again  re- 
appear; always,  going  and  coming,  they  sniffed  at 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

one  spot.  Here  Finnerty  struck  a  match,  and  Ma- 
hadua,  dropping  to  his  knees,  examined  the  rock, 
saying:  "The  leopard  rested  here — there  is  blood." 

Led  by  Finnerty,  they  followed  the  dogs  along 
the  corridor,  coming  upon  a  blank  wall.  There  was 
no  leopard;  he  had  vanished  as  mystically  as  a  spirit 
might  have  done.  Finnerty  lighted  matches,  but 
there  were  only  the  sullen  walls  on  three  sides. 

"It  is  as  I  have  said,"  the  Banjara  growled;  "Ma- 
hadua,  who  has  grown  too  old  for  the  hunt,  gave 
forth  so  much  monkey  chatter  that  the  sahib  saw  not 
the  leopard  pass." 

Mahadua  lifted  his  cap.  "See,  hunter  of  cow  tics, 
I  take  off  my  head-cover  to  thee  as  a  great  shikari. 
Sahib,"  he  pleaded,  "turn  back  this  owner  of  mon- 
grels, for  I  know  where  the  chita  will  be  found." 

"Where?"  Finnerty  questioned. 

"He  will  go  up  in  the  hills  to  the  village  of  Kohi- 
ma,  where  he  was  caught  In  a  trap.  It  is  said  he 
killed  many  people  near  that  village,  for  he  was  a 
man-eater." 

"How  far  is  Kohima?" 

"It  is  six  kos,  or  perhaps  eight,  and  again  it  might 
be  that  it  is  ten  by  the  road,  but  the  chita  will  go 
through  the  jungle  in  a  matter  of  half  that  distance." 

The  Banjara  laughed,  clapping  a  cupped  palm 
over  his  mouth,  giving  vent  to  a  note  of  derision. 
"The  little  monkey  has  a  desire  in  his  belly,  sahib," 
he  said,  ceasing  his  popping  mirth.  "The  women 
of  Kohima  are  famed  for  the  arak  they  distill,  so 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Mahadua,  with  the  sahib  to  pay  for  it,  would  get 
in  a  state  to  see  leopards  even  in  the  village." 

"I  think  we'd  better  get  rid  of  this  argument," 
Finnerty  remarked,  adding:  "Come  to  the  bungalow 
for  your  pay,  Lumbani." 

Calling  their  dogs,  the  Banjara  and  his  brother 
departed. 

"Now  we're  up  against  a  mental  dead  wall,  cap- 
tain. What  shall  we  do?"  Finnerty  asked. 

"You'd  like  to  go  after  Burra  Moti,  of  course — " 

"Yes;  but  I'd  rather  pot  this  black  devil.  I  don't 
want  any  natives'  blood  on  my  head." 

"But  we  haven't  a  trail  to  follow;  I  believe  we'll 
find  that  leopard  back  in  his  cage." 

"Good  heavens,  man,  he  couldn't  get  through  the 
solid  wall!" 

"But  he  did." 

Finnerty  blinked  his  eyes  in  unison  with  his  rapid 
thoughts.  A  suspicion  lingered  in  his  mind  that  the 
animal  had  really  slipped  from  the  cave  without 
Swinton  seeing  him — perhaps  through  his  attention 
having  been  taken  up  by  Mahadua.  Indeed  it  was 
the  only  reasonable  explanation  of  his  astounding 
disappearance.  With  boyish  diffidence  he  asked: 
"Did  you  and  Mahadua  do  anything;  that  is,  did 
he  take  up  your  attention  with — well,  he's  a  garru- 
lous old  cuss,  especially  on  spirits." 

Swinton  in  candour  related  what  had  occurred,  and 
when  he  told  of  the  rupee-gun  ceremony  the  major, 
with  a  start,  exclaimed:  "Ah!" 

"I  know  what  you  mean  by  that,  major,"  Swinton 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

said,  with  a  little  laugh,  "but  I  never  took  my  eyes 
off  that  hole  in  the  wall." 

But  Finnerty  shook  his  head.  "Do  you  know 
what  they  call  the  leopard  in  every  mess  in  India? 
—The  Artful  Dodger.'  "  Then  he  added  hastily: 
"We'll  settle  your  theory  first,  captain.  On  our  way 
back  to  have  some  breakfast  we'll  look  in  at  the  zoo, 
and  if  there's  a  black  leopard  there  with  a  wound  it 
will  be  the  one  we're  after;  if  there  is  one  without  a 
wound  it  will  mean  that  we  shot  a  jungle  beast  last 
night;  if  the  cage  is  empty  the  brute  either  slipped 
your  vigilance  or  is,  as  Mahadua  says,  a  spirit." 

The  word  leopard  being  familiar  to  the  servant, 
he  knew  what  the  sahibs  were  discussing,  and  con- 
tributed :  "Our  eyes  were  always  on  the  door,  sahib, 
and  if  a  spirit  took  the  leopard  through  the  walls  he 
would  lead  him  to  Kohima,  for  it  is  said  that  all  his 
kills  were  made  through  the  aid  of  one  he  acquired 
there." 

"Come  on!"  Finnerty  said.  "We're  in  a  fit  condi- 
tion of  mystification  to  almost  accept  the  little  man's 
thesis." 

A  strange  attendant  was  at  the  teakwood  gate, 
but  when  the  major  explained  that  they  simply  want- 
ed a  look  at  the  animals,  being  sahibs,  he  swung  the 
gate  for  their  entrance,  closing  it  from  the  inside 
to  stand  near  them.  The  heavily  barred  cage  was 
empty,  and  there  was  no  movement  in  the  den  be- 
hind to  which  a  small  door  gave  entrance. 

"Where  is  the  black  leopard?"  Finnerty  asked 
quite  casually. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

A  frown  of  reticence  clouded  the  native's  face  as 
he  answered:  "I  don't  know,  sahib." 

With  a  covert  movement,  the  major  slipped  into 
the  man's  fingers  a  rupee.  The  gateman  coughed, 
adjusted  his  belt,  and  said:  "The  Burra  Sahib,  Na- 
wab  Darna  Singh,  sent  away  the  man  who  was  on 
the  gate;  that  is  why  I  am  now  here." 

"Did  the  man  sleep  at  his  post?" 

"It  may  be  that  he  did,  sahib,  and  that  way  the 
black  leopard  escaped;  but  he  was  beaten  by  the 
rajah — no  doubt  he  deserved  it — and  Nawab  Darna 
Singh  thinks  that  in  anger  he  may  have  freed  the 
dangerous  one,  for  a  small  door  was  left  open." 

"And  the  leopard  has  not  been  seen  to-day?" 

"No,  sahib;  but  it  is  said  he  was  shot,  by  whom  or 
where  I  have  not  heard." 

Then  the  two  passed  through  the  gate  as  mystified 
as  when  tHey  entered. 

"That  destroys  my  solution  of  the  mystery,"  Swin- 
ton  declared. 

With  a  laugh,  Finnerty  said:  "Mahadua  has  the 
only  unassailable  belief — that  it  is  a  spirit.  But  now 
for  some  breakfast.  Our  horses  are  just  around 
the  turn.  We'll  slip  over  to  my  bungalow,  and  while 
we're  eating  send  down  for  Lord  Victor." 


Chapter  XVI 

WHEN  Captain  Swinton  and  Major  Finnerty 
arrived  at  the  bungalow  a  note  was  sent  to 
Lord  Victor  asking  him  to  come  up  on  horse- 
back, as  they  were  going  off  into  the  jungle. 

Knowing  that  servants'  ears  were  animate  dicta- 
phones, the  two  sahibs  ate  breakfast  in  comparative 
silence,  the  strenuous  morning  after  the  black  leop- 
ard having  braced  their  appetites. 

Later,  at  restful  ease  in  big  chairs,  the  major  said: 
"In  this  accursed  land  of  spies  one  must  find  a  place 
where  his  eyes  reach  farther  than  his  voice.  That, 
by  the  way,  was  a  trick  of  a  clever  tiger  I  killed,  the 
Gharwalla  man-eater,  through  discovering  that  when 
he  had  made  a  kill  he  would  drag  the  body  to  a  cer- 
tain bare  hilltop  from  which  he  could  watch  for  dan- 
ger. He'd  been  driven  up  to  a  gun  so  often  that  he 
was  shy  of  secret  places.  There  was  something  grew- 
some  about  that  tiger's  fiendish  cunning.  His  fav- 
ourite trick  was  to  crouch  in  cover  that  overhung  a 
roadway,  and  as  a  bullock  cart  came  along  pick  off 
the  driver  with  a  flying  leap  and  carry  him  to  this 
hilltop  for  a  leisurely  meal.  There  was  a  pool  close 
by,  and,  after  eating,  he  would  take  a  drink,  roll  in 
the  sand,  and  then  go  quite  a  mile  to  thick  cover  for 
a  sleep.  I  potted  him  when  he  was  having  one  of 
his  sand  baths.  You've  seen  a  dog  roll  on  a  rug 

225 


226  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

in  the  ecstasy  of  a  full  stomach,  but  with  this  chap 
there  was  something  wondrously  beautiful — if  one 
could  forget  the  horribleness  of  it — ir  the  play  of 
those  terrible  muscles  and  the  undulating  curves  of 
the  striped  body  as  he  rolled  in  luxurious  ease,  paws 
fanning  the  air  and  his  ivory-studded  jaws  showing 
in  an  after  dinner  yawn.  I  watched  him  for  ten  min- 
utes, fascinated  by  the  charm  of  subtle  movement 
combined  with  strength,  for  I  was  well  hidden  in  a 
thick  growth  of  rose  bramble,  its  mottled  colouring 
of  pink  and  grey  and  green  deceiving  his  quick  eye. 
I  was  lying  flat,  my  lo-bore  covering  him.  When  I 
gave  a  low  whistle  the  big  head  faced  me,  and  the 
eyes,  hardened  to  a  yellow-green  murder  look,  were 
straight  on.  But  just  below  the  jaw  was  a  spot  with 
no  hard  skull  to  deflect  the  heavy,  soft-lead  ball,  and 
behind  that  feathered  curl  of  white  hair  was  the 
motor  of  that  powerful  machine — the  heart.  He 
never  knew  what  struck  him.  The  whole  cavity  was 
just  pulp — heart  and  lungs — when  we  skinned  him." 
A  native  who  had  come  in  from  the  jungle  now 
came  to  the  verandah.  "Huzoor,"  he  began,  "we 
knew  that  Burra  Moti  was  near  in  the  night,  for  Raj 
Bahadar  was  restless,  cocking  his  ears  and  making 
soft  speech  through  his  trunk  to  the  cunning  old  lady ; 
but  maybe  on  account  of  the  camp  fire,  which  we  had 
lighted  to  show  her  that  it  was  but  a  party  of  men 
who  would  eat  and  had  sweet  cakes  for  elephants 
who  approached  in  a  friendly  spirit,  she  came  not  in. 
We  could  hear  the  bell  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle " 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  227 

"You  fool!  Why  do  you  mix  lies  in  your  report; 
the  elephant  had  no  bell." 

Undismayed,  the  man  answered:  "The  mahout 
maintained  as  much,  sahib,  but  we  all  heard  the  bell, 
and  Moti  was  in  a  sweet  temper,  for  she  laughed,  as 
elephants  do  when  they  are  pleased." 

"It  was  a  bird  you  heard — the  sweet-singing  sha- 
ma,  or  a  chakwa  calling  to  his  mate  across  a  stream. 
Did  you  see  her?" 

"It  was  still  dark,  but  we  could  hear  Moti  sigh  as 
though  her  heart  was  troubled  because  she  could 
not  come  to  partake  of  the  cakes  we  burned  so  that 
they  would  be  known  in  her  nostrils." 

"Couldn't  come!     She  was  free." 

"As  to  a  chain,  it  is  true ;  but  the  sahib  knows  that 
evil  attaches  to  things  that  are  sacred  of  a  temple 
when  they  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  others." 

"Speak!"  Finnerty  commanded,  as  the  native  hes- 
itated. 

"It  is  said — perhaps  it  is  but  a  rumour  of  the 
bazaar — that  Moti  was  of  a  temple  up  in  the  hills, 
and  that  in  the  bell  was  a  sacred  sapphire." 

"But  how  came  Moti  to  my  place?  Know  you 
that,  sage  one?" 

The  native  dismissed  the  sarcasm  with  a  salaam, 
answering:  "It  is  said  that  the  temple  was  looted 
of  jewels  that  were  buried  beneath  a  pillar." 

With  a  start,  Finnerty  asked :  "And  the  stone  pil- 
lar— was  it  taken?"  And  he  laughed  as  if  in  de- 
rision. 


228  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"I  have  heard  that  the  pillar  is  in  a  new  place, 
sahib." 

"Is  it  in  the  prince's  grounds?"  And  Finnerty 
swept  an  arm  toward  the  palace  hill. 

"There  is  a  stone  standing  there  that  did  not  grow 
with  the  roses,"  the  native  answered  enigmatically. 

"Just  another  move  in  our  deranged  friend's  plot," 
Finnerty  commented.  He  turned  to  the  native: 
"Was  the  lama  of  the  temple  killed?" 

"Men  who  are  dead  do  not  come  to  the  market 
place  to  complain,  and  as  the  priest  has  not  spoken 
it  may  be  that  he  is  dead." 

"Here  comes  our  friend  in  perpetuity,  the  Ban- 
jara!"  Finnerty  exclaimed.  He  rose,  and,  going 
into  the  bungalow,  returned  to  drop  a  rupee  in  the 
native's  hand,  saying:  "Go  back  to  Raj  Bahadar 
and  tell  the  mahout  I  will  be  along  shortly."  He 
turned  to  the  captain. 

"Swinton,  all  one's  servants  may  know  the  thing 
a  man  is  risking  his  life  to  discover  and  he  be  none 
the  wiser  till  some  one  babbles  it  like  a  child." 

"As  in  the  mutiny,"  Swinton  suggested.  "Our  of- 
ficials saw  cow  dung  plastered  on  the  trees — some 
few  heard  what  they  called  'silly  whispers,'  but  all 
native  India  knew,  and  all  India  remained  hushed 
till  the  dead  silence  was  shattered  by  the  tornado." 

"Exactly.  And  while  we  say  Ananda  is  insane, 
and  all  these  things  are  child's  play,  think  of  the 
trifling  things  that  were  used  as  factors  to  breed  that 
holocaust  of  hate.  The  Mussulmans  told  that  the 
British  Raj  had  greased  the  cartridges  they  had  to 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  229 

bite  with  pig's  fat  to  defile  their  religion;  that  suttee 
had  been  abolished  to  break  the  Hindu  faith  by  fill- 
ing  the  land  with  widow  prostitutes;  that  water  the 
Hindu  sepoys  drank  had  come  in  contact  with  leather 
valves  made  from  the  skin  of  a  cow.  There  were 
other  trivial  things  lied  into  mountains  of  sins.  An- 
anda  knows  all  that;  he  has  the  cunning  of  a  serpent 
and  the  viciousness  of  a  black  leopard." 

The  Banjara  had  arrived,  and  Finnerty  counted 
out  five  rupees;  then,  with  a  touch  of  Irish  humour, 
he  added  another,  saying,  with  a  smile :  "This  for 
your  disappointment  in  not  having  a  dog  killed." 

"If  the  monkey  man,  Mahadua,  had  been  true 
to  his  caste,  which  is  to  watch  and  not  talk,  there 
would  have  been  profit  for  both  sides — the  sahib 
would  have  obtained  a  kill." 

When  he  had  tucked  away  his  money,  the  Banjara 
said:  "My  brother  is  not  now  keeper  at  the  tiger 
garden." 

"Why?     For  whose  sin  does  he  suffer?" 

"Darna  Singh  let  the  black  leopard  out  to  meet 
Rajah  Ananda  at  Jadoo  Pool." 

"The  rajah  wasn't  there,"  Finnerty  declared  in  a 
drawling  way. 

"No ;  there  was  some  talk  that  was  either  a  lie  or 
a  mistake;  it  was  another  at  the  pool." 

"Who?" 

"The  horse  of  the  young  sahib  was  found  on  the 
hill,  and  the  mem-sahib  was  seen  between  the  pool 
and  her  bungalow." 

"A  ghost  story,  Banjara,  and  it's  all  finished." 


230  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"A  bullock  that  is  dead  is  dead,  but  a  herdsman 
watches  that  the  other  bullocks  do  not  also  die  from 
the  same  thing." 

"I  trust  you,  Banjara,"  Finnerty  said,  seemingly 
at  an  irrelevant  angle. 

"The  mem-sahib  rides  every  day  up  into  the  hills, 
and  the  roads  are  not  good  for  pleasure.  Packets 
of  cotton  that  have  stomachs  come  down  over  the 
road;  cotton  grows  here." 

"What  has  cotton  to  do  with  the  one  who  rides?" 

"Perhaps  the  mem-sahib  rides  to  meet  the  one  who 
comes  behind  the  packets.  My  brother,  who  was 
the  son  of  a  Banjara  priest,  one  who  had  visions  that 
all  the  tribe  believed,  has  also  had  a  vision.  Per- 
haps the  beating  caused  a  fever,  for  visions  come 
thus." 

"What  saw  he?"  Finnerty  asked,  knowing  that 
the  herdsman  had  something  of  moment  to  tell  in  this 
way. 

"There  was  a  full  moon  in  the  sky,  and  by  its 
light  he  saw  a  rajah,  and  the  rajah  had  many  guns 
and  soldiers — even  sahibs  as  soldiers — and  he  was 
driving  out  the  English.  And  the  guns  were  hidden 
behind  bales  of  cotton." 

"Is  that  all?"  Finnerty  asked,  for  the  herdsman 
had  stopped. 

"My  brother  woke  at  that  point,  huzoor,  and  his 
eyes  fell  upon  a  mhowa  tree  in  full  bloom." 

"Which  means  that  the  mhowa  is  in  bloom  now?" 

"Of  the  interpreting  of  visions  I  know  nothing,, 
but  it  might  be  that  way." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  231 

The  Banjara  now  departed,  and  Swinton  said: 
"Do  you  remember  Prince  Ananda  saying  that  if  a 
holy  man  stood  by  the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  in 
the  full  of  the  moon,  when  the  mhowa  was  in  bloom, 
having  the  three  sacred  sapphires,  he  would  see  the 
dead  king  rise  in  his  golden  boat?" 

"Yes,  and  this  cowherd's  chatter  means  an  upris- 
ing soon.  I  hear  hoofs;  that  will  be  Lord  Victor. 
Are  we  going  to  accuse  him  of  being  at  the  pool?" 

"I  think  not.  We  know  as  much  now  as  we  shall 
if  we  question  him.  But  we'll  keep  him  with  us;  a 
young  ass  like  that  isn't  safe  without  a  keeper — he's 
no  match  for  as  clever  a  traitor  as  this  girl." 

Finnerty's  chair  groaned  as  though  it  had  re- 
ceived a  twist  from  his  big  frame,  but  his  voice  was 
devoid  of  protest:  "I  can't  make  the  girl  out.  My 
mind  is  in  a  psychological  state,  and  I  suppose  I'm 
influenced  by  the  apparent  candour  in  her  eyes.  They 
seem  to  express  trouble,  too,  as  if  she  were  searching 
for  a  moral  finger  post,  for  a  way  out  of  darkness." 
Then  the  major  expressed  an  apologetic  phrase :  "I'm 
afraid  I'm  a  bit  awkward  at  psychology;  jungle 
dwellers  are  more  in  my  line." 

Swinton  put  his  hand  on  the  big  man's  shoulder. 
"My  dear  major,  I  wish  I'd  had  a  brother  like  you. 
My  family  was  baked  in  the  crucible  of  government 
service  for  generations;  we're  executive  automatons." 

"I  understand;  you're  an  Englishman — Damn  it! 
I  mean,  in  youth  you  never  roamed  the  hills  like 
shaggy-haired  colts  as  we  do  in  Ireland." 

"If  I  had  I  wouldn't  have  made  a  good  Raj  po- 


£32  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

liceman.  But  to  hark  back.  The  German  machine, 
more  soulless  than  our  own,  knows  the  value  of 
Mona  Lisa  eyes,  and  Marie  was  probably  picked  for 
this  delicate  mission  for  the  very  quality  that  has 
won  your  sympathy — her  appealing  womanhood." 

"And  yet  my  perhaps  sympathy  for  the  girl  was 
birthed  by  accident,  not  design  on  her  part." 

"What  is  an  attractive  girl  doing  here  so  close  to 
Prince  Ananda?  Why  is  she  here  with  a  Prussian 
who  is  an  enemy  of  the  British  Raj?  Why  is  she 
averse  to  being  approached?  What  is  she  searching 
for  in  the  hills?  It's  the  road  to  China,  and  guns 
have  already  arrived,  according  to  our  Banjara." 

"I  haven't  an  answer  for  any  one  of  your  queries, 
captain,  but  we  must  investigate  those  packets." 

Lord  Victor  arrived  now,  and  as  he  had  not  yet 
seen  the  skin  of  Pundit  Bagh  he  was  taken  to  where 
it  was  pegged  out  on  the  ground  and  being  rubbed 
with  ashes  and  alum.  This  kill  of  a  tiger  was  prob- 
ably the  first  incident  in  his  life  calculated  to  raise 
elation  in  the  hearts  of  his  friends. 

"Something  to  tack  to,  eh?"  he  cried  joyfully. 
"Fancy  I  hear  the  chaps  in  fluffy  old  London  saying 
as  I  pass,  That's  the  man  that  shot  a  big  man-eater 
on  foot.'  No  swank  to  that,  major,  for  I  did.  You 
know  that  dicky  little  chapel  dedicated  to  the  tiger 
god?" 

"Yes;  the  one  down  in  the  plain." 

"It's  simply  buried  under  devotee  bric-a-brac  this 
morning.  They  should  have  a  sign  up  'Wet  Paint,' 
for  it's  gory  blood  red.  When  I  came  along  a  fat 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  233 

black  man,  rolled  in  white  muslin,  cursed  me — abso- 
lutely bowled  at  my  wicket  with  a  ball  of  brimstone. 
Now  what  do  you  make  of  that,  major?  It  wasn't 
about  the  cow  dog,  for  the  bounder  had  one  English 
word,  'tiger,'  which  he  simply  sprayed  his  lingo  with." 

Mahadua  had  come  to  accompany  the  party,  and, 
somewhat  perplexed,  Finnerty  turned  to  the  shikari 
for  an  explanation. 

"Yes,  sahib,"  Mahadua  said,  "Pundit  Bagh  was  a 
jungle  god,  and  they  are  making  prayer  to  the 
shrine  so  that  the  spirit  may  return  again  as  a  tiger 
to  protect  them  from  such  as  the  black  leopard." 

Finnerty  interpreted:  "They  feel  that  you  have 
slain  one  who  defended  them  against  leopards  and 
pig  and  deer  that  ate  their  crops." 

"Oh,  I  say!  Sort  of  a  gentleman  burglar  who 
did  not  murder  his  victims." 

The  shikari  explained  that  the  man  who  had  vi»- 
ited  verbal  wrath  upon  Lord  Victor  was  a  money 
lender  who  lent  money  at  a  high  rate  to  the  farmers 
to  buy  bullocks  when  the  tiger  had  killed  their  plough 
beasts,  so  he  was  angry  at  this  loss  of  revenue.  He 
also  said  that  some  one  was  telling  the  natives  that 
the  sahibs  were  trying  to  destroy  their  religion  by 
killing  their  jungle  gods. 

"Who  tells  them  this?"  Finnerty  asked. 

The  shikari  answered  evasively:  "This  is  not  my 
country,  so  they  do  not  tell  me  what  is  in  the  hidden 


Chapter  XVII 

MAJOR  FINNERTY  had  made  arrangements 
for  a  full  day  after  Burra  Moti.  Coolies 
had  been  sent  on  with  provisions  in  round 
wicker  baskets  slung  from  a  bamboo  yoke,  and  soon 
the  three  sahibs  started. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  absence  of  immediate  haste,  a 
lack  of  pressing  action,  that  allowed  their  minds  to 
rest  on  their  surroundings.  Really,  though,  it  was 
Lord  Victor  who  drew  them  to  a  recognition  of  their 
arboreal  surroundings  with:  "I  say!  Look  at  that 
bonfire — but  it's  glorious  I"  his  riding  whip  indicating 
a  gold  mohur  tree  that,  clothed  in  its  gorgeous  spring 
mantle  of  vivid  red  bloom,  suggested  its  native  name 
of  "Forest  on  Fire." 

"Yes,"  Finnerty  said,  "it  seems  to  add  to  the  heat 
of  the  sun,  and,  as  if  that  weren't  enough,  listen  to 
that  damn  cuckoo,  the  'brain-fever  bird,'  vocal  in  his 
knowledge  that  we'll  soon  be  frying  in  Hades." 

The  bird  of  fiendish  iteration  squeaked:  "Fee-e-e- 
ver,  f ee-e-e-ver,  fee-e-e-ver  f"  till  he  came  to  a  startled 
hush,  as,  with  noisy  cackle,  a  woodpecker,  all  golden 
beak  and  red  crest  atop  his  black-and-white  waist- 
coat, shot  from  the  delicate  green  foliage. 

"It's  a  land  of  gorgeous  colouring,"  Finnerty  com- 
mented; "trees  and  birds  alike." 

"Minus  the  scent  and  song,"  Swinton  added  as  a 
234 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  835 

hornbill  opened  his  yellow  coffin  beak  to  screech  in 
jarring  discord. 

But  just  when  they  had  passed  the  sweet-scented 
neem,  and  then  a  kautchnor  standing  like  some  giant 
artificial  wooden  thing  decorated  with  creamy  white- 
and  pink-petaled  lilies,  Finnerty  drew  rein,  holding 
up  his  hand,  and  to  their  ears  floated  from  a  tangle 
of  babool  the  sweet  song  of  a  shama.  It  was  like 
the  limpid  carolling  of  a  nightingale  in  a  hedge  at 
home;  it  bred  a  hunger  of  England  in  Lord  Victor's 
boy  heart.  When  the  song  hushed,  as  they  passed 
the  babool  Finnerty  pointed  to  a  little  long-tailed 
bird  with  dull  red  stomach,  and  the  youth,  lifting  his 
helmet,  exclaimed,  "You  topping  old  bird!  I'd  back 
you  against  a  lark." 

Perhaps  India,  populous  with  bird  and  animal  life 
as  well  as  human,  was  always  as  much  on  parade  as 
it  seemed  this  morning,  and  that  they  now  but  ob- 
served closer.  At  any  rate,  as  they  left  the  richer- 
garbed  foothills  for  the  heavier  sombreness  of  the 
forest,  their  eyes  were  caught  by  the  antics  of  a 
black-plumaged  bird  who  had  seized  the  rudder  of 
a  magpie  and  was  being  towed  along  by  that  squawk- 
ing, frightened  mischief-maker. 

With  a  chuckle,  Finnerty  explained:  "He's  a  king 
crow,  known  to  all  as  the  'police  wallah,'  for  he's 
eternally  putting  others  to  rights.  That  'pie'  has 
been  looting  some  nest,  and  the  king  crow  is  driving 
him  over  into  the  next  county." 

Like  a  gateway  between  the  land  of  the  living  and 
the  land  of  beyond,  its  giant  white  limbs  weird  as 


236  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

the  arms  of  a  devil-fish,  reaching  through  glossy 
leaves  to  almost  touch  a  wall  of  sal,  stood  a  pipal, 
its  wide-spreading  roots,  daubed  with  red  paint,  nurs- 
ing a  clay  idol  that  sat  amid  pots  of  honey,  and 
gwect  cakes,  and  gaudy  tinsel,  and  little  streamers 
of  coloured  cloth — all  tribute  to  the  god  of  the  sacred 
wild  fig.  Beyond  this  they  were  in  a  cool  forest; 
above,  high  against  a  blue  sky,  the  purple  haze  of  the 
sal  bloom,  their  advent  sending  a  grey-backed  fat 
little  dweller  scuttling  away  on  his  short  legs. 

"A  badger!"  Lord  Victor  cried  eagerly. 

"Kidio,  the  grave  digger,  as  our  natives  call  him," 
Finnerty  added.  "Even  that  chubby  little  cuss  is 
enlarged  mythologically."  He  turned  to  Mahadua, 
and  in  answer  to  a  question  the  latter,  drawing  up 
to  the  Major's  stirrup,  said:  "Yes,  sahib,  the  ghor 
kidio  comes  up  out  of  the  Place  of  Terrors  on  dark 
nights  and  carries  away  women  and  children.  Near 
my  village,  which  is  Gaum,  one  lived  in  the  hills  so 
close  that  he  was  called  the  'Dweller  at  the  Hearth.' 
A  sahib  who  made  a  hunt  of  a  month  there  broke  the 
evil  spell  by  some  manner  of  means,  for  the  great 
grave  digger  was  never  seen  again." 

"Shot  him?"  Finnerty  asked  seriously. 

"No,  sahib,  else  he  would  have  had  pride  in  show- 
ing the  one."  Then  Mahadua  dropped  back  well 
satisfied  with  the  pleasure  of  converse  with  the  sa- 
hibs. 

Screened  from  the  sun's  glare,  but  warming  to 
his  generous  heat,  the  forest  held  an  indescribable 
perfume — the  nutty,  delicious  air  which,  drawn  into 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  237 

expanded  lungs,  fills  one  with  holy  calm,  with  the 
delight  of  being,  of  living,  and  so  they  rode  in  silent 
ecstasy,  wrapped  in  the  mystic  charm  of  the  Creator's 
work. 

An  hour  of  travel  and  they  met  a  party  of  Fin- 
nerty's  men  carrying  one  of  their  number  slung  from 
a  bamboo  pole.  He  had  been  mauled  by  the  black 
leopard.  The  story  was  soon  told.  The  whole  par- 
ty with  Bahadar  had  moved  forward  on  Moti's  trail, 
stopping  when  they  felt  she  was  near,  the  men  spread- 
ing out  with  the  object  of  bringing  her  in.  In  one 
of  these  encircling  movements  they  had  surrounded, 
without  knowing  it,  the  black  leopard,  and,  in  break- 
ing through,  the  vicious  animal  had  mauled  one  so 
that  he  would  probably  die. 

The  shikari,  after  he  had  asked  the  locality  of 
this  encounter,  said:  "It  is  toward  Kohima." 

"This  shows  that  he  is  not  a  spirit,  Mahadua; 
that  he  hasn't  dissolved  into  air." 

"Still,  sahib,  a  spirit,  leopard  or  tiger,  can  always 
change  back." 

"It  proves  to  me,"  Swinton  declared,  "that  there's 
an  exit  to  that  cave  which  we  did  not  discover." 

They  had  forgotten  Lord  Victor's  presence,  but 
the  young  man  said  blithely:  "I  say,  I  heard  you 
two  Johnnies  had  gone  out  after  a  leopard  this  morn- 
ing. What  luck?" 

"He  got  away;  he's  just  mauled  this  man.  And 
it  means" — Finnerty  turned  and  faced  Swinton — 
"that  we've  got  to  follow  him  up." 

Finnerty's  voice   had  scarcely  ceased  when  the 


238  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

trumpeting  of  an  elephant,  loud  and  shrill,  sounded 
ahead.  "That's  Raj  Bahadar,"  Finnerty  declared. 
"I  expect  Moti  has  come  back  with  another  wallop- 

ing." 

They  urged  their  horses,  and  came  to  where  the 
party  had  camped  through  the  night,  a  fresh  trail 
showing  that  the  men  had  moved  on.  Following 
this,  they  came  within  hearing  of  human  voices,  high- 
pitched  in  a  babel  of  commands  and  exhortations  and 
calls,  drowned  at  times  by  the  trumpet  of  Bahadar. 
Emerging  from  a  thick  clump  of  trees,  they  could  see 
the  natives  darting  and  hopping  about  something 
that  looked  like  the  top  of  a  submarine  emerging 
from  the  waters. 

"Bahadar  has  fallen  into  a  pit,"  Finnerty  declared. 

Before  the  three  sahibs  reached  Bahadar  there 
was  an  encouraging  "phrut,  phrut"  from  beyond, 
and  Moti's  gleaming  tusks  showed  through  the  jun- 
gle ;  and  then  the  old  lady  herself  halted  just  beyond 
the  pit  for  a  brief  survey,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  it 
wasn't  a  game  to  trap  her.  Then  she  advanced 
gingerly,  feeling  the  ground,  and  thrust  out  her  trunk 
for  Bahadar  to  grasp  with  his.  The  natives  saw  that 
Moti  had  come  to  help  Bahadar  and  not  to  belabour 
him.  With  sticks  and  jungle  axes  some  of  them 
started  to  tear  down  to  a  slope  the  end  wall  of  the 
pit,  while  the  others  gathered  sticks  and  branches 
and  threw  them  beneath  the  trapped  elephant  as  a 
gradually  rising  stage. 

Finnerty  dismounted,  and,  calling  a  man,  said: 
"While  Moti  is  busy  noose  both  her  hind  legs,  leav- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  239 

ing  the  ropes  in  the  hands  of  men  so  that  she  will 
not  find  the  strain,  and  when  Bahadar  is  out  fasten 
them  quickly  around  trees." 

Moti  was  for  all  the  world  like  the  "anchor  man" 
on  a  tug-of-war  team.  Clasping  the  bull  elephant's 
trunk  in  a  close  hitch,  she  leaned  her  great  bulk  back 
and  pulled  with  little  grunts  of  encouragement.  Ba- 
hadar soon  was  able  to  catch  his  big  toes  in  the  partly 
broken  bank,  and  helped  the  natives  in  its  levelling. 

At  last  he  was  out,  and  seeming  to  recognise  what 
Moti  had  done,  was  rubbing  his  trunk  over  her  fore- 
head and  blowing  little  whiffs  of  endearment  into 
her  ears,  while  she  stood  warily  watching  the  puny 
creatures  who  kept  beyond  reach  of  a  sudden  throw 
of  her  trunk. 

A  native  with  a  noose,  watching  his  chance,  darted 
in  and  slipped  it  over  a  forefoot,  and  Moti,  in  a 
second,  was  moored,  fore  and  aft,  to  strong  trees. 
Either  in  a  cunning  wait  or  from  a  feeling  of  resig- 
nation to  fate,  she  put  up  no  fight  beyond  a  querulous 
"phrump,  phrump!"  as  if  she  would  say:  "My  re- 
ward, you  traitors!" 

Bahadar  was  cut  about  the  legs,  for  the  pit,  being 
an  elephant  trap  dug  by  Nagas  who  captured  ele- 
phants for  their  meat  and  ivory,  was  studded  with 
upright  bamboo  spears,  and,  unlike  the  local  pits 
with  their  sloped  sides,  its  walls  were  perpendicular 
to  its  full  depth  of  ten  feet. 

"Tell  me  why  you  left  the  main  trail,  and  how 
Bahadar  stepped  into  this  pit?"  Finnerty  demanded 
of  Gothya,  the  mahout. 


240  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"We  heard  the  bell,  sahib " 

"Fool !"  and  Finnerty  pointed  to  Moti's  neck,  on 
which  was  nothing. 

"We  all  heard  it,  sahib,  and  some  talk  between  a 
voice  and  Moti,  who  would  answer  back  'E-e-eu-eu — 
phrut!  E-e-eu-eu — phrut!'  as  though  she  were  say- 
ing, 'Wait,  brother!'  No  doubt,  sahib,  it  was  a  jungle 
spirit  that  was  drawing  Moti  along  for  our  destruc- 
tion, for,  as  we  followed  this  old  Naga  trail,  Baha- 
dar  suddenly  went  through  the  covering  of  leaves 
and  dead  limbs  that  was  over  the  pit." 

It  was  now  past  noon,  and  Finnerty  said:  "We'll 
have  tiffin,  a  rest-up,  and,  with  Mahadua,  make  a 
wide  cast  toward  the  hills  to  see  if  we  can  pick  up 
tracks  of  the  leopard;  he's  both  ugly  and  hungry,  so 
will  do  something  to  betray  himself.  We'll  leave 
Moti  here  with  the  party — the  tie-up  will  quiet  her — 
until  we  return." 

A  leg  chain  was  fastened  from  one  of  Moti's  front 
feet  to  a  hind  foot,  which  would  shorten  her  stride 
should  it  so  happen  that  by  any  chance  she  broke 
away  again. 


PART  FOUR 


PART  FOUR 
Chapter  XVIII 

MAHADUA,  the  hunter  guide,  led  the  three 
sahibs  always  in  the  direction  of  Kohima, 
sometimes  finding  a  few  pugs  in  soft  earth. 
About  three  o'clock  two  natives  overtook  them,  their 
general  blown  condition  suggesting  that  their  mis- 
sion was  urgent. 

"I  am  Nathu,  the  shikari,"  one  said,  "and  the 
Debta  of  Kohima  has  sent  for  the  sahib  to  come  and 
destroy  a  black  leopard  who  has  made  the  kill  of  a 
woman,  for  my  gun — that  is  but  a  muzzle-loader — is 
broken.  It  is  the  man-eater  who  was  taken  from 
Kohima  by  the  rajah,  and  is  now  back;  he  has  cun- 
ning, for  a  spirit  goes  with  him,  sahib.  Three  wo- 
men were  drying  mhowa  blooms  in  the  sun,  and  they 
sat  up  in  a  machan  to  frighten  away  jungle  pig  and 
deer  who  eat  these  flowers;  perhaps  they  slept,  for 
there  was  no  outcry  till  the  leopard  crawled  up  in 
the  machan  and  took  the  fat  one  by  the  throat  and 
carried  her  off." 

"How  far  is  Kohima?"  Finnerty  asked. 

"It  is  but  a  few  hours'  ride.  But  if  the  sahib 
comes  he  will  find  the  leopard  at  sunset,  for  he  will 
come  to  where  the  body  of  the  fat  woman  lies  on  a 
hill.  Now  in  the  daylight  men  with  spears  are  keep- 

243 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

ing  him  away  till  I  bring  the  sahib  for  the  kill.  The 
sahibs  can  ride  to  Kohima,  for  there  is  a  path." 

When  they  arrived  at  Kohima,  the  village  sat 
tinder  a  pall  of  dread,  and  their  advent  was  hailed 
with  delight.  An  old  woman  bent  her  forehead  to 
Finnerty' s  stirrup,  wailing:  "Sahib,  it  is  the  daughter 
of  Sansya  who  has  been  taken,  and  an  evil  curse  rests 
over  my  house,  for  before,  by  this  same  black  devil, 
was  taken  a  son." 

"We'll  get  busy  because  night  will  soon  be  upon 
us,"  Finnerty  said  to  his  companions. 

They  were  led  on  foot  to  an  almost  bare  plateau, 
and  Nathu,  pointing  to  the  spearsmen  fifty  yards 
ahead,  said:  "The  body  is  there,  sahib,  and  as  the 
sun  goes  behind  the  hills  the  leopard  will  come  back 
to  eat.  He  is  watching  us  from  some  place,  for 
this  is  his  way.  Here  he  can  see  without  being  seen." 

They  beheld  a  grewsorne  sight — the  body  of  the 
slain  woman. 

"This  black  devil  has  the  same  trick  of  devouring 
his  kill  in  the  open  as  the  Gharwalla  man-eater  had," 
Finnerty  declared;  "but  I  see  no  cover  for  a  shot." 
He  gazed  disconsolately  over  the  stony  plateau  with 
neither  rock  nor  tree  breaking  its  surface.  "There  is 
no  cover,"  he  said  to  Mahadua,  and  when  the  shi- 
kari repeated  this  to  Nathu,  the  latter  answered: 
"There  is  cover  for  the  sahib,"  pointing  to  a  thick 
clump  of  aloe  with  swordlike  leaves,  twenty  yards 
away.  "My  men  will  cut  the  heart  out  of  that  so 
that  the  sahib  may  rest  within.  Even  if  the  beast 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

is  wounded  he  will  not  be  foolish  enough  to  thrust 
his  body  against  those  spears." 

Nathu  spoke,  and  two  men  came  forward  from  a 
group  that  had  lingered  back  on  the  path,  and  with 
sharp  knives  lashed  to  bamboo  handles  cut  an  en- 
trance and  a  small  chamber  in  the  aloe. 

Finnerty  laughed.  "That  is  a  new  one  on  me, 
but  it  will  probably  deceive  even  that  black  devil; 
he  would  notice  anything  new  here  the  size  of  a 
cricket  bat." 

"Huzoor,"  Nathu  advised,  "the  leopard  is  watch- 
ing us  from  some  place,  but,  cunning  as  he  is,  he  can- 
not count;  so,  while  we  are  all  here,  the  one  who  is 
to  make  the  kill  will  slip  into  the  machan  and  we 
will  go  away,  leaving  the  woman  who  is  now  dead 
beyond  doubt.  And  as  to  his  scent,  sahib,  I  have 
brought  a  medicine  of  strong  smell  that  all  of  his 
kind  like,  and  I  have  put  some  where  the  woman 
lies  and  within  the  aloe  machan,  so  his  nose  will  not 
give  him  knowledge  of  the  sahib's  presence." 

"It  is  your  game,  Lord  Victor,"  Finnerty  said. 
"We'll  go  in  a  body  to  the  aloe,  and  you,  taking  my 
lo-bore,  slip  quickly  into  your  cubby-hole.  Squat 
inside  as  comfortably  as  you  can,  with  your  gun 
trained  absolutely  on  the  body,  and  wait  till  the  leop- 
ard is  lined  dead  with  your  sights;  don't  move  to  get 
a  bead  on  him  or  he'll  twig  you." 

Nathu  followed  the  sahibs,  dropping  on  their 
trail  from  a  bison  horn  a  liquid  that  had  been  de- 
cocted from  the  glands  of  an  otter  for  the  oblitera- 
tion of  the  sahib  scent;  the  taint  of  natives  would 


246  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

not  alarm  the  leopard,  experience  having  taught  him 
that  when  he  charged  they  fled. 

As  Gilfain  sat  behind  the  sabre-leafed  wall  of  aloe 
he  bent  down  a  strong-fibred  shoot  to  obtain  a  good 
rest  for  the  heavy  zo-bore,  and  an  opening  that  gave 
him  a  view  of  the  dead  body  of  the  woman.  Beyond 
the  plateau  the  jungle,  fading  from  emerald  green, 
through  purple,  to  sable  gloom  as  the  sun  slid  down 
behind  a  western  hill,  took  on  an  enshroudment  of 
mystery.  A  peacock,  from  high  in  a  tamarisk  that 
was  fast  folding  its  shutter  leaves  for  the  night,  called 
discordantly.  A  high-shouldered  hyena  slouched  in 
a  prowling  semicircle  back  and  forth  beyond  the  kill, 
his  ugly  snout  picking  from  the  faint  breeze  its  story 
of  many  scents.  Closer  and  closer  the  hyena  drew 
in  his  shuffling  trot,  till  suddenly,  with  head  thrown 
up  as  if  something  had  carried  to  his  ear,  he  stood  a 
carved  image  of  disgusting  contour  against  a  gold- 
tinted  sky  shot  with  streamers  of  red.  Then,  with  a 
shrunken  cringe  of  fear,  he  slipped  away  and  was 
gone. 

From  the  jungle  something  like  a  patch  of  its  own 
gloom  came  out  upon  the  blurred  plateau.  As  the 
thing  turned  to  sweep  along  the  jungle  edge  the  fad- 
ing sky  light  glinted  on  two  moonstones  that  were  set 
in  its  shadowy  form. 

The  watcher  now  knew  what  it  was.  His  heart 
raced  like  a  motor.  At  the  base  of  his  skull  the 
tightening  scalp  pricked  as  though  an  etcher  were 
at  work.  His  tongue  moistened  parchment-dry  lips. 
His  fingers  teat  a  tattoo  upon  the  triggers  of  the 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  247 

gun.  It  was  not  fear;  it  was  just  "It,"  the  sensation 
that  comes  to  all. 

More  wily  even  than  the  ghoulish  hyena,  the  leop- 
ard worked  his  way  toward  the  spot  of  his  desire. 
Belly  to  earth,  he  glided  for  yards;  then  he  would 
crouch,  just  a  darkening  patch  on  the  surface;  some- 
times he  sat  up — a  black  boulder.  Thirty  yards 
across  from  the  body,  he  passed  beyond  it  to  catch 
in  his  nostrils  the  gently  stirring  wind  that  sifted 
through  the  aloe  blades  to  where,  once  more  flat  to 
earth,  he  waited  while  his  sixth  sense  tabulated  the 
taints. 

Lord  Victor's  eye,  trained  along  the  barrels,  saw 
nothing  definite;  he  felt  a  darkening  of  the  ground 
where  the  woman  lay,  but  no  form  grew  in  outlines. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  glint  of  light  as  if  from  a  glow- 
worm; that  must  be  the  leopard's  eyes.  Then — Gil- 
fain  must  have  moved  his  gun — there  was  the  gleam 
of  white  teeth  fair  in  line  with  the  sights  as  the  leop- 
ard snarled  with  lifted  head. 

Inspiration  pulled  the  triggers — once,  twice !  The 
gun's  roar  was  followed  by  the  coughing  growl  of 
the  writhing  leopard.  With  a  dulled,  automatic 
movement  the  man  jammed  two  cartridges  into  the 
gun,  and  with  foolish  neglect  of  sense  scrambled 
from  his  cage,  the  razor  edge  of  an  aloe  leaf  slitting 
his  cheek,  and  ran  to  where,  beside  the  woman's 
body,  lay  dead  the  one  who  had  slain  her. 

An  instinct  rather  than  reason  flashed  across  Gil- 
fain's  still  floating  mind,  a  memory  of  Finnerty's 
precaution  at  the  death  of  Pundit  Bagh,  and,  hold- 


248  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

ing  both  barrels  cocked,  he  prodded  the  still  twitch- 
ing black  body;  but,  now  released  from  trivial  things, 
the  leopard  lay  oblivious  of  this. 

Torches  flickered  in  wavy  lines  where  the  village 
path  topped  the  plateau,  and  a  crunch  of  hurrying 
feet  was  heard.  To  reassure  them  Lord  Victor  cried 
a  cheery,  "Hello!  Whoop-ah!" 

When  Finnerty  and  Swinton  arrived  at  the  head 
of  a  streaming  procession  a  soft  glow  of  satisfied 
victory  loosened  Gilfain's  tautened  nerves,  and  he 
babbled  of  the  joy  of  slaying  man-eaters  till  cut  short 
by  the  major's:  "Well,  this  act  is  finished,  so  we'll 
get  back." 

Mahadua  was  already  busy.  The  leopard  was 
quickly  triced  to  a  pole,  and  they  were  back  in 
Kohima.  Then  there  was  ritual,  for  the  hillmen  of 
the  jungle  have  their  ways,  and  the  killing  of  a  man- 
eater  is  not  of  daily  habit,  and  Mahadua,  knowing 
all  these  things,  had  to  collect  a  levy. 

The  slain  one  was  deposited  in  front  of  the  debta's 
house,  and  Mahadua,  with  some  fantastic  gyrations 
supposed  to  be  a  dance,  collected  a  rupee  from  the 
headman,  also  from  the  villagers  flour  and  ghee  and 
honey,  for  that  was  the  custom  when  a  man-eater 
was  slain. 

Six  strong  carriers,  each  armed  with  a  torch,  were 
supplied  by  the  debta  to  bear  the  trophy,  slung  from 
a  bamboo,  down  to  the  next  village,  which  was  Mayo 
Thana. 

For  the  sahibs  milk  and  rice  cakes  and  honey  were 
supplied,  and  their  praises  sounded  as  demigods. 


"THE  GRAY  STALLION'S  THUNDER  >G  GALLOP  ALL  BUT  DROWNING 
THE  BLASPHEMOUS  REPROACH  THAT  ISSUED  FROM  SWINTON's  LIPS.'' 


See  page  2f>7 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  249 

Lord  Victor,  as  he  sat  on  a  block  of  wood  that  was 
a  grain  mortar,  found  his  knees  in  the  thin,  bony 
arms  of  an  old  woman  whose  tears  of  gratitude 
splashed  upon  the  hand  with  which  he  patted  her 
arm.  She  was  Sansya,  the  slain  woman's  mother. 

As  they  left  Kohima,  the  carriers  waving  their 
torches  in  rhythmic  lines  of  light,  the  leader  sent  his 
powerful  voice  echoing  down  the  slopes  in  a  propi- 
tiatory song  to  the  god  of  the  hills,  which  also  con- 
veyed an  order  to  Mayo  Thana  to  prepare  a  relay 
of  bearers. 

Weirdly  mystic  the  torch-lighted  scene,  the  leader's 
voice  intoning  the  first  line,  and  the  others  furnishing 
the  chorus  as  they  sang: 

"GodofourHffls! 

Ho-ho,  ho-ho! 

The  leopard  is  slain! 

Ho-ho,  ho-ho! 

To  thee  our  praise! 

Ho-ho,  ho-ho  I" 

To  the  flowing  cadence  of  this  refrain  the  six  bear- 
ers of  the  leopard  trotted  down  the  mountain  path 
in  rhythmic  swing. 

At  Mayo  Thana,  a  mile  down,  and  at  Mandi,  half 
a  mile  beyond,  thrifty  Mahadua  collected  his  tithe  as 
master  of  the  hunt,  and  obtained  torchbearers,  the 
lot  from  Mandi  having  the  task  of  shouldering  the 
burden  till  the  elephant  party  was  reached. 

For  an  hour  they  travelled  among  heavy-bodied 
creepers  and  massive  trees  when,  through  the  solemn 
stillness,  echoed  the  far-off  tinkle  of  a  bell.  Without 


250  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

command,  Mahadua  stood  silently  in  the  path,  his 
head  turned  to  listen.  Five  seconds,  ten  seconds — 
the  sahibs  sitting  their  saddles  as  silent  as  their  guide, 
and  again,  now  unmistakable,  to  their  ears  floated 
the  soft  note  that  Finnerty  had  likened  to  the  clink 
of  ice  in  a  glass. 

Mahadua,  holding  up  his  torch  so  that  its  light 
fell  upon  Finnerty's  face,  turned  his  eyes  question- 
ingly. 

"It  is  Mod's  bell?"  Finnerty  said,  query  in  his 
voice. 

"Yes,  sahib;  but  it  is  not  on  Moti's  neck,  because 
it  would  not  just  speak  and  then  remain  silent,  and 
then  speak  and  then  remain  silent,  for  in  the  jungle 
her  pace  would  keep  it  at  tongue  all  the  time." 

Then,  listening,  they  waited.  Again  they  heard 
it,  and  again  there  was  silence. 

"Easy,  easy!"  Finnerty  commanded,  and,  moving 
with  less  speed  than  before,  they  followed  Mahadua. 

As  they  came  to  a  break  in  the  forest  where  some 
hills  had  burst  through  its  gloomed  shroud  to  lift 
their  rocky  crests  into  the  silver  moonlight,  Finnerty 
heard,  nearer  now,  the  bell,  and,  startled  by  its  un- 
familiar note,  a  jackal,  sitting  on  his  haunches  on 
the  hilltop,  his  form  outlined  against  the  moonlit 
sky,  threw  up  his  head  to  send  out  a  faint,  tremulous 
cry.  The  plaintive  wail  was  caught  up  as  it  died 
away  by  another  jackal,  and  then  another — they 
were  like  sentinels  calling  from  posts  in  a  vast  semi- 
circle; then  with  a  crashing  crescendo  of  screaming 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  251 

yelps  all  broke  into  a  rippling  clamour  that  suggested 
they  fled  in  a  pack. 

"Charming !"  Lord  Victor  commented.  "Topping 
chorus!" 

In  the  hush  that  followed  this  jackal  din,  Finnerty 
could  hear  the  tinkling  bell.  "Does  it  come  up  this 
path?"  he  asked  the  shikari. 

"Yes,  sahib,  and  I  thought  I  heard  Moti  laugh." 

The  major  turned  to  Swinton.  "I've  got  a  pre- 
sentiment that  somebody — probably  the  man  that 
stuck  a  knife  into  Baboo  Dass'  thief — having  the 
bell,  has  got  Moti  away  from  my  fellows  and  is 
leading  her  up  this  path  to  the  hills.  I'm  going  to 
wing  him."  He  slipped  from  the  saddle,  his  lO-bore 
in  hand.  "Of  course,  if  I  can  get  my  clutches  on 

him "  He  broke  off  to  arrange  action.  "Put 

out  the  torch,  Mahadua,  and  have  your  match  box 
ready  to  light  it  in  a  second.  You  two  chaps  had  bet- 
ter turn  your  horses  over  to  the  syces.  With  Ma- 
hadua I'll  keep  in  advance." 

Mahadua,  putting  his  little  hand  up  against  Fin- 
nerty's  chest,  checked  at  a  faint,  rustling,  grinding 
sound  that  was  like  the  passing  of  sandpaper  over 
wood.  Finnerty,  too,  heard  it.  Perhaps  a  leopard 
had  forestalled  them  in  waylaying  the  one  who  had 
signalled  his  approach;  or  perhaps  the  one  had  stilled 
the  telltale  sapphire  tongue,  and  was  near.  No,  it 
tinkled,  a  score  or  more  yards  beyond.  The  shikari's 
hand  clutched  spasmodically  in  a  steadying  grip  of 
Finnerty's  coat;  there  was  a  half-stifled  gasp  from 


252  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

its  owner  as  two  lurid  eyes  weaved  back  and  forth 
in  the  black  depths  in  which  the  path  was  lost. 

Finnerty' s  iron  nerve  went  slack;  his  boy  days  of 
banshee  stories  flooded  his  mind  in  a  superstitious 
wave  as  those  devilish  eyes  hovered  menacingly  ten 
feet  from  the  ground. 

"A  spirit  1"  Mahadua  gasped  as  he  crawled  his 
way  behind  the  major. 

"Tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle!"  The  sound  came  just 
below  where  the  eyes  had  gleamed;  then  a  smother- 
ing cry — the  crunching,  slipping  sound  of  sandpaper 
on  wood;  a  rapid  clatter  of  the  bell;  a  noise  like  the 
hiss  of  escaping  steam  mingled  with  the  crunch  of 
breaking  bones;  and  again  the  gleaming  eyes  cut  the 
darkness  in  sinuous  convolutions. 

A  gasp — a  cry  of:  "Gad,  what  is  it?"  came  from 
behind  Finnerty,  and  beyond  there  was  a  heavy 
thud,  the  clatter  of  a  bamboo  pole,  as,  with  cries  of 
horror,  the  men  of  Mandi  dropped  their  burden 
and  fled,  gasping  to  each  other:  "It  is  the  goblin  of 
the  Place  of  Terrors,  and  if  we  look  upon  his  eyes 
we  shall  become  mad!" 

In  front  of  Finnerty  the  jungle  was  being  rent 
asunder.  With  a  wild  trumpet  note  of  battle,  drawn 
by  the  bell  clangor,  an  elephant  crashed  through  im- 
peding limbs  and  seized  the  evil-eyed  goblin. 

"A  light!"  Finnerty  grabbed  the  torch,  and  as 
it  flared  to  a  match  that  trembled  in  Mahadua's 
fingers  he  thrust  it  back  into  the  guide's  h?nd,  cocking 
the  hammers  of  his  lo-bore. 

The  resined-torch  flare  picked  out  against  the  grey 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  253 

of  Moti's  neck  a  white-and-black  necklace,  the  end 
of  which  was  wound  about  a  swaying  vine,  and  in 
the  coils,  drawn  flat  like  an  empty  bag,  was  a  man 
from  whose  neck  dangled  a  clanging  bell. 

"A  python  1"  Finnerty  cried  as  he  darted  forward 
to  get  a  shot  at  the  wide-jawed  head  that,  swaying 
back  and  forth,  struck  viciously  with  its  hammer  nose 
at  Moti's  eyes. 

The  jungle  echoed  with  a  turmoil  that  killed  their 
voices;  the  shrill,  trumpet  notes  of  Burra  Moti  had 
roused  the  forest  dwellers;  a  leopard,  somewhere  up 
in  the  hills,  answered  the  defiant  roars;  black-faced 
monkeys,  awakened  by  the  din,  filled  the  branches  of 
a  giant  sal  and  screamed  in  anger. 

Great  as  was  the  elephant's  strength,  she  could 
not  break  the  python's  deadly  clasp;  she  was  like 
a  tarpon  that  fights  a  bending  rod  and  running  reel, 
for  the  creeper  swayed,  and  the  elastic  coils  slipped 
and  held  and  gave  and  gathered  back,  until  its  chok- 
ing strength  brought  her  to  her  knees. 

For  a  second  the  serpent's  head  was  clear — a  yard 
above,  and  the  lo-bore  spat  its  lead  fair  into  the 
yawning  mouth.  The  coils  slipped  to  looseness;  the 
big  elephant  neck  drew  in  the  cooling  air,  and  Moti, 
wise  as  a  human,  knew  that  she  was  saved.  A  grunt 
of  relief  rippled  weakly  from  her  trunk,  and  Fin- 
nerty, slipping  up  as  she  lay  still  bound  in  the 
python's  folds,  patted  her  on  the  forehead  and  let 
her  hear  his  voice. 

"Put  the  bell  on  her,  sahib,"  Mahadua  advised, 
"for  now  that  she  is  tired  she  will  be  at  peace." 


254  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Mahadua's  call  to  the  carriers  was  answered  far 
down  the  trail;  but  reassured  by  his  cry  of,  "The 
big  snake  is  dead!"  they  came  back.  More  torches 
were  lighted,  their  flickering  glare  completing  a  real- 
istic inferno. 

Down  on  her  bended  legs  like  a  huge,  elephant- 
faced  god,  a  dead  man,  clad  in  the  snuff-coloured 
robe  of  a  priest,  laced  to  her  neck  by  the  python 
coils  and  surrounded  by  black-skinned  torch-bearers, 
Moti  might  well  have  been  taken  for  some  jungle 
fetish. 

The  men  of  Mandi  carried  little  axes  in  their  belts, 
and  with  these  the  serpent  cable  was  cut  and  un- 
coiled. He  was  a  gigantic  brute,  thirty  feet  long 
and  thicker  than  a  man's  thigh.  The  mottled  skin, 
a  marvellous  pattern  of  silver  and  gold  and  black, 
looked  as  though  nature  had  hung  out  an  embel- 
lished sign  of  "Beware!"  Or,  perhaps,  mothering 
each  of  its  kind,  had,  with  painstaking  care,  here 
limned  a  deceiving  screen  like  the  play  of  sunlight 
or  moonlight  through  leaves  on  the  dark  limb  of  a 
tree. 

As  the  priest's  limp  body  flopped  to  earth  a  jade^ 
handled  knife  fell  from  a  leather  girdle.  Swinton 
picked  it  up,  saying:  "This  is  familiar,  major." 

"There  are  two  of  them,"  Finnerty  answered, 
stooping  to  reach  another  that  still  rested  in  its 
sheath. 

The  strap  that  held  the  sapphire  bell,  wound  twice 
around  the  priest's  shoulders,  was  evidently  intended 
for  Moti's  neck,  and  with  a  continuous  stream  of 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  255 

low-voiced  endearments,  Finnerty  buckled  it  to  place. 

Touching  the  iron  chain  that  still  held  in  its  stride- 
shortening  grip  Moti's  legs,  Finnerty  said:  "That's 
why  they  came  along  at  such  a  slow  pace,  and  it  will 
help  us  shoo  the  old  girl  back;  she'll  know  that  she 
can't  cut  up  any  didos." 

Mahadua,  though  he  didn't  understand  the  Eng- 
lish, realising  something  of  this,  said :  "Sahib,  Moti 
will  be  like  a  woman  that  has  had  her  cry  of  pas- 
sion; she  will  now  bear  with  her  friends.  I  will  go 
in  the  lead  with  a  torch,  and  if  the  sahib  will  spare 
one  of  the  bridle  reins,  holding  an  end  and  allowing 
Moti  to  take  the  other  end  in  her  fingers  as  she  might 
the  tail  of  an  elephant,  she  will  follow  the  horse." 

It  was  soon  arranged  thus.  At  a  word  from  Fin- 
nerty, Moti  lumbered  heavily  to  her  feet,  while  he 
stood  with  uplifted  whip,  ready  to  cut  a  stinging 
blow  to  her  trunk  should  she  show  signs  of  temper. 
Quite  understanding  this  threat,  Moti  gently  thrust 
her  trunk  toward  the  major's  face  and  fumbled  his 
chin  with  her  thumb  and  finger  as  though  she  would 
say:  "I  know  a  friend  when  I  find  him." 

As  they  neared  the  elephant  encampment,  Mcti, 
catching  the  sound  of  Bahadar's  ears  fanning  flies, 
rumbled  a  soft  message  of  peace;  but  there  was  no 
expected  noise  of  greeting  from  the  natives,  no 
bustle  of  sleepers  rising  to  greet  the  sahibs.  They 
came  right  into  the  camp  before  some  of  the  men, 
who  had  slept  with  their  heads  rolled  in  the  folds 
of  turbans  or  loin  cloths,  sat  up  groggily  or  struggled 
to  incapable  feet.  The  mahout  reeled  up  from  some- 


256  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

where  near  Bahadar  and  salaamed  drunkenly,  a  fool- 
ish, deprecating  leer  on  his  lips. 

The  sight  of  Moti  partly  sobered  him,  and  his 
mind  caught  up  the  blurred  happenings  of  the  night. 
"An  evil  spirit,  sahib,"  he  babbled,  "caused  us  to 
fall  heavy  in  sleep,  and  we  were  wakened  by  the 
breaking  of  the  rawhide  nooses  that  bound  Moti; 
then  she  fled  to  the  jungle." 

"This  fool  is  drunk!"  Mahadua  declared  angrily. 
"If  the  sahib  will  beat  him  with  a  whip  he  will  tell 
who  brought  the  arak." 

Gothya  repudiated  Mahadua's  assertion,  but  a 
firm  tap  of  the  riding  whip  on  his  buttocks,  with 
threats  of  more,  gradually  brought  out  the  story 
of  their  debauch.  A  party  of  native  liquor  runners, 
men  who  smuggled  arak  across  the  line  from  Nepal, 
had  stumbled  upon  the  party  and  had  driven  a  thriv- 
ing trade. 

"That  accounts  largely  for  the  stealing  of  Moti," 
Finnerty  declared.  He  had  in  his  hand  the  rawhide 
noose,  showing  that  it  had  been  cut  close  to  the  ele- 
phant's leg.  Evidently  the  priest  had  been  able  to 
crawl  right  in  to  the  camp,  the  drunkards  having 
let  their  fire  die. 

The  mahout,  salaaming,  said:  "Sahib,  the  jungle 
is  possessed  of  evil  gods  to-night.  Just  when  it  was 
growing  dark  we  saw  passing  on  a  white  horse  the 
one  who  gallops  at  night  to  destroy." 

"Was  that  before  you  became  drunk,  or  since?" 
Finnerty  asked  sarcastically. 

"At  that  time  the  wine  had  not  arrived,  sahib. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  257 

We  all  saw  passing  yonder  in  the  jungle  where  there 
is  no  path  the  white  horse." 

"Gad!  It  has  been  the  girl  coming  down  out  of 
the  hills,"  Finnerty  said  to  Swinton.  "There  must 
be  something  about  to  materialise  when  she  waited 
so  late.  We'll  camp  here,"  he  added  to  Mahadua. 
"Send  a  couple  of  these  fellows  to  the  keddha  to  tell 
Immat  to  bring  out  his  tusker,  with  a  couple  of 
ropes." 

The  men  were  sent  off,  a  fire  built,  the  tent  pitched, 
and  Finnerty's  servant,  who  had  been  brought  in 
'charge  of  the  commissariat,  prepared  a  supper  for 
the  sahibs. 

Bahadar,  seeing  that  Burra  Moti  had  overcome 
her  waywardness,  knelt  down  for  a  restful  night,  but 
Moti,  true  to  her  African  elephant  habit,  remained 
on  her  stalwart  legs,  fondling  her  recovered  sapphire 
trinket. 


Chapter  XIX 

LIKE  the  aftermath  of  a  heavy  storm,  the  night 
held  nothing  but  the  solemn  forest  stillness; 
the  tired  sahibs  lay  in  its  calm  creatures  of 
a  transient  Nirvana  till  brought  from  this  void  of 
restful  bliss  by  the  clarion  of  a  jungle  cock  rousing 
his  feathered  harem. 

A  golden-beaked  black  "hill  myna"  tried  his  won- 
drous imitative  vocal  powers  on  the  cock's  call  from 
the  depths  of  a  tree  just  above  them,  and  when  this 
palled  upon  his  fancy  he  piped  like  a  magpie  or 
drooled  like  a  cuckoo;  then  he  voiced  some  gibberish 
that  might  have  been  simian  or  gathered  from  the 
chatter  of  village  children. 

The  camp  stirred;  the  natives,  shame  in  their 
hearts  and  aches  in  their  heads,  crawled  into  action. 
Amir  Alii,  the  cook,  built  a  fire,  and  brewed  tea  and 
made  toast. 

Lord  Victor  was  filled  with  curiosity  over  the 
cock  crow,  and  when  it  was  explained  that  there  were 
wild  fowl  about  he  became  possessed  of  a  desire  to 
shoot  some. 

After  breakfast  Finnerty  loaded  a  gun  and  sent 
Mahadua  with  Lord  Victor  after  the  jungle  fowl. 
They  were  gone  an  hour,  for  the  beautiful  black-red 
jungle  cock  had  led  them  deep  into  the  forest  before 
falling  to  the  gun. 

258 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  259 

Upon  their  return  Finnerty  fancied  there  was  an 
unusual  diffidence  about  Lord  Victor;  he  seemed  dis- 
inclined to  dilate  upon  his  sporting  trip;  also  Ma- 
hadua  had  a  worried  look,  as  if  he  held  back  some- 
thing he  should  unfold. 

A  little  later,  as  Finnerty  went  to  the  spot  where 
Moti  and  Raj  Bahadar  were  feeding  upon  limbs  the 
men  had  brought,  he  heard  Mahadua  say  to  Gothya  : 
"Does  a  spirit  leave  hoofprints  in  the  earth  as  big 
as  my  cap,  believer  in  ghosts?  And  does  it  ride  back 
to  the  hills  in  daylight?"  Then  Gothya  caught  sight 
of  Finnerty,  and  the  wrangle  ceased. 

When  the  major  had  looked  at  the  elephants  for 
a  minute  he  drew  Mahadua  into  the  jungle,  and  there 
said:  "Now,  shikari  man,  tell  me  what  has  entered 
through  those  little  eyes  of  yours  this  morning?" 

The  face  of  Mahadua  wrinkled  in  misery.  "Sa- 
hib," he  begged,  "what  am  I  to  do?  I  eat  master's 

salt,  and  yet "  He  was  fumbling  in  the  pocket  of 

his  jacket;  now  he  drew  forth  a  rupee  and  tendered 
it  to  Finnerty,  adding:  "Take  this,  master,  and  give 
it  back  to  the  young  lord  sahib  that  I  may  now 
speak,  not  having  eaten  his  salt  to  remain  silent." 

Finnerty  threw  the  silver  piece  into  the  jungle, 
saying:  "Bribery  is  for  monkeys.  And  now  that  you 
serve  but  one  master  what  have  you  of  service  for 
him?" 

The  man's  eyes,  which  had  been  following  with 
regret  the  rupee's  spinning  flight,  now  reverted  to 
his  master's  face.  "Going  I  saw  in  soft  earth  the 
print  of  hoofs,  the  front  ones  having  been  shod  with 


260  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

iron;  they  were  not  small  ones  such  as  Bhutan  ponies 
have,  nor  a  little  larger  like  the  Arab  horses,  but 
wide  and  full,  such  as  grow  on  the  Turki  breed." 

By  the  "Turki  breed"  Mahadua  meant  the  Tur- 
coman or  Persian  horse,  Finnerty  knew,  and  the  grey 
stallion  Marie  rode  was  one  such.  He  asked:  "Was 
it  the  track  of  the  white  horse  Gothya  thought  car- 
ried an  evil  spirit?" 

"Yes,  sahib;  for  as  we  went  beyond  after  the  jun- 
gle hens  the  mem-sahib  who  rides  the  grey  stallion 
passed,  going  up  into  the  hills,  and  a  road  bears  its 
burden  both  coming  and  going." 

Finnerty  jumped  mentally.  Why  had  Lord  Vic- 
tor given  Mahadua  a  rupee  to  say  nothing  of  this 
incident?  "But  she  did  not  see  you  nor  the  sahib?" 
he  queried. 

"She  did  not  see  your  servant,  but  the  young  man 
spoke  with  her." 

"And  he  gave  you  a  rupee?" 

"He  put  a  finger  on  his  lips  and  closed  his  eyes 
when  he  passed  the  rupee,  and  thinking  the  going 
abroad  to  eat  the  air  by  the  mem-sahib  of  no  impor- 
tance to  master  I  said  nothing." 

Neither  did  Finnerty  say  anything  of  this  to  either 
Lord  Victor  or  Swinton.  But  he  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  would  also  go  up  into  the  hills  that  day.  It 

is  mind  revolted  at  the  thought  of 
firl.  In  some  moments  of  self-anal- 
irmed  in  confessional,  but  this  feel- 
D  his  duty,  he  put  in  the  storehouse 


denouncing  th 
ysis  his  heart 
ing,  traitorous 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  261 

of  locked-away  impulses.  He  had  never  even  whis- 
pered into  words  these  troublous  thoughts.  It  took 
some  mastering,  did  the  transient  glint  of  pleasing 
womanhood  into  his  barren  jungle  life,  for  the  big 
man  was  an  Irish  dreamer,  a  Celt  whose  emotions 
responded  to  the  subtle  tonic  of  beauty  and  charm. 
Ever  since  he  had  taken  Marie  in  his  arms  to  put 
her  in  the  howdah  he  had  felt  her  head  against  his 
shoulder;  had  seen  the  heavy  sweep  of  black  hair 
that  was  curiously  shot  with  silver. 

Finnerty  could  see  an  uneasy  look  in  Lord  Vic- 
tor's eyes  as  that  young  man  watched  him  coming 
back  out  of  the  jungle  with  Mahadua.  Why  had 
the  youngster  talked  with  the  girl  on  the  grey  stal- 
lion— why  had  he  not  let  her  pass?  Why  had  he 
given  the  shikari  a  rupee  to  say  nothing  of  the  meet- 
ing? There  was  some  mystery  behind  the  whole 
thing.  She  had  come  back  late  the  previous  evening, 
and  now  she  was  going  up  into  the  hills  at  this  early 
hour. 

The  elephant  Finnerty  had  sent  for  had  not  ar- 
rived; perhaps  the  half-drunken  messengers  had  lain 
down  in  the  jungle  to  sleep  off  the  arak.  But  at  last 
the  tusker  appeared.  It  was  during  this  wait  that 
Finnerty  proposed  to  Swinton  that  they  should  go 
up  into  the  hills.  He  saw  Lord  Victor  start  and 
look  up,  apprehension  in  his  eyes,  when  he  broached 
the  matter,  but  though  the  latter  advanced  many 
reasons  why  they  should  not  make  the  journey  he 
did  not  accept  the  major's  polite  release  of  his  com- 
pany; he  stuck.  Indeed,  Finnerty  was  hoping  Gil- 


262  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

fain  would  decide  to  return  to  Darpore,  for  the 
young  man's  presence  would  hamper  their  work  of 
investigation. 

He  knew  that  the  grey  stallion's  hoofprints  would 
be  picked  up  on  the  path  that  led  to  the  hills  when 
they  came  to  the  spot  where  the  girl,  having  finished 
her  detour,  would  swing  her  mount  back  to  the  beaten 
way,  so  he  rode  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  He 
first  discerned  them  faintly  cupping  some  hard,  stony 
ground,  but  he  said  nothing,  riding  in  silence  till, 
where  the  trail  lay  across  a  stretch  of  mellow,  black 
soil,  imprints  of  the  wide  hoofs  were  indented  as 
though  inverted  saucers  had  cut  a  quaint  design. 
Here  he  halted  and  cried  in  assumed  surprise:  "By 
Jove!  Somebody  rides  abroad  early  this  morning!" 

But  his  assumption  of  surprise  was  not  more  con- 
summate than  Gilfain's,  for  the  latter's  face  held  a 
baby  expression  of  inquiring  wonderment  as  he  said: 
"Floaty  sort  of  idea,  I'd  call  it,  for  any  one  to  jog 
up  into  these  primeval  glades  for  pleasure." 

Swinton,  who  knew  the  stallion's  hoofprints  from 
a  former  study  of  them,  raised  his  eyes  to  Finnerty's, 
there  reading  that  the  major  also  knew  who  the 
rider  was. 

Now  by  this  adventitious  lead  their  task  was  sim- 
plified, and  Finnerty  clung  tenaciously  to  the  telltale 
tracks.  This  fact  gradually  dawned  upon  Lord  Vic- 
tor, and  he  became  uneasy,  dreading  to  come  upon 
the  girl  while  with  his  two  companions. 

They  had  ridden  for  an  hour,  always  upward, 
the  timber  growing  lighter,  the  ground  rockier,  and 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  263 

open  spots  of  jungle  more  frequent,  when,  on  a  lean, 
gravelled  ridge,  Finnerty  stopped,  and,  dismounting, 
searched  the  ground  for  traces  of  a  horse  that  had 
passed. 

"Have  you  dropped  something,  major?"  Lord 
Victor  asked  querulously. 

"Yes,"  Finnerty  answered,  remounting;  "I  think 
it's  back  on  the  trail." 

Swinton  followed,  and  Lord  Victor,  muttering, 
"What  the  devil  are  you  fellows  up  to?"  trailed  the 
other  two. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  back,  where  a  small  path 
branched,  Finnerty  picked  up  their  lead  and  they 
again  went  upward,  now  more  toward  the  east.  The 
presence  of  Lord  Victor  held  unworded  the  dominat- 
ing interest  in  Swinton's  and  Finnerty's  minds,  so  they 
rode  almost  silently. 

It  was  noon  when  they,  now  high  up  among  hills 
that  stretched  away  to  the  foot  of  Safed  Jan,  whose 
white-clothed  forehead  rested  in  the  clouds,  came  out 
upon  a  long,  stony  plateau.  Finnerty,  pointing  with 
his  whip,  said:  "There  lies  the  Safed  Jan  Pass,  and 
beyond  is  the  road  to  Tibet,  and  also  the  road  that 
runs  south  through  Nepal  and  Naga  land  to  Chit- 
tagong.  I've  never  been  up  this  far  before." 

"If  this  trip  is  in  my  honour,  you're  too  devilish 
hospitable,"  Lord  Victor  growled;  "mountain  climb- 
ing as  a  pastime  is  bally  well  a  discredited  sport." 

Here  and  there  on  the  plateau  the  damp-darkened 
side  of  a  newly  upturned  stone  told  that  the  grey 
stallion  had  passed  on  the  path  they  rode ;  but  at  the 


264  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

farther  extremity  of  the  plateau  they  came,  with  star- 
tling suddenness,  upon  a  deep  cleft — a  gorge  hun- 
dreds of  feet  deep,  and  yet  so  smooth  to  the  surface 
that  at  fifty  yards  it  was  unobservable.  There  the 
path  ended,  and  on  the  farther  side,  twenty  feet 
away,  perched  like  a  bird's  nest  in  a  niche  of  the 
cliff,  was  a  temple,  partly  hollowed  from  the  solid 
rock  and  partly  built  of  brick.  To  one  side,  carved 
from  the  rock,  was  an  image  of  Chamba. 

With  a  rueful  grin,  Finnerty  cast  his  eye  up  and 
down  the  gorge  whose  one  end  was  lost  between 
mountain  cliffs,  and  whose  other  dipped  down  to  cut 
the  feet  of  two  meeting  hills.  He  dismounted  and 
prowled  up  and  down  the  chasm's  brink.  There  were 
no  hoofprints,  no  disturbing  of  sand  or  gravel;  ab- 
solutely nothing  but  the  quiescent  weathered  surface 
that  had  lain  thus  for  centuries. 

When  Finnerty  returned,  Swinton,  amused  at  the 
intense  expression  of  discomfiture  on  his  face,  said: 
"Our  early-morning  friend  must  sit  a  horse  called 
Pegasus." 

Finnerty,  raising  his  voice,  called  across  the  chasm. 
He  was  answered  by  an  echo  of  his  own  rich  Irish 
tone  that  leaped  from  gorge  to  gorge  to  die  away 
up  the  mountainside.  He  seized  a  stone  and  threw 
it  with  angry  force  against  the  brick  wall  of  the  tem- 
ple; the  stone  bounded  back,  and  from  the  chasm's 
depths  floated  up  the  tinkle  of  its  fall.  But  that  was 
all;  there  was  no  response. 

Somewhat  to  Finnerty's  surprise,  Swinton  said: 
"Well,  we've  given  our  curiosity  a  good  run  for  it; 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  265 

suppose  we  jog  back?  When  we  get  in  the  cool  of 
the  jungle  we'll  eat  our  bit  of  lunch." 

Finnerty  did  not  voice  the  objection  that  was  in 
his  mind.  Certainly  the  girl  had  passed  that  way — 
was  still  up  above  them;  why  should  they  give  up 
pursuit  because  the  trail  was  momentarily  broken? 

Back  across  the  plateau  Swinton  had  assumed  the 
lead,  and  fifty  yards  in  the  jungle  he  stopped,  saying: 
"I'm  peckish;  we'll  have  a  good,  leisurely  lunch 
here." 

When  they  had  eaten,  Lord  Victor,  saying  he  was 
going  to  have  a  look  at  the  bald  pate  of  Safed  Jan, 
strolled  back  toward  the  plateau.  When  he  had 
gone  Swinton  spoke:  "If  we  stay  here  long  enough, 
major,  the  girl,  who  of  course  rode  that  horse  whose 
tracks  we  followed,  will  come  around  that  sharp 
turn  in  the  path,  and,  figuratively,  plunk  into  our 
arms.  We  are  at  the  neck  of  the  bottle — the  gate- 
way. There's  a  mighty  cleverly  constructed  draw- 
bridge in  the  face  of  that  temple;  that  brickwork 
hides  it  pretty  well." 

Finnerty  whistled.  "And  the  girl,  you  think,  van- 
ished over  the  let-down  bridge?" 

"Yes,  and  probably  sat  there  eyeing  us  all  the 
time." 

"By  Jove,  they  saw  us  coming  on  the  plateau  and 
drew  up  the  bridge !" 

"Yes." 

"And  what  do  we  do  now?" 

"Wait  here.    We'll  see  her  face  to  face,  I'm  cer- 


266  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

tain ;  that  will  be  something.  Whether  she  will  have 
with  her  what  she  searches  for  I  don't  know." 

"Some  companion  she  expects  to  meet  here?" 

"It  must  be,  and  I'm  going  to  search  him." 

"Unless  it's  too  big  a  party." 

"When  do  we  start?"  Lord  Victor  queried,  re- 
turning; but  he  received  only  an  evasive  answer.  He 
grew  petulant  as  an  hour  went  by. 

And  now  Swinton  had  disappeared  up  the  trail 
toward  the  plateau.  After  a  time  he  came  back, 
and  with  a  motion  of  his  eyebrows  told  Finnerty  that 
some  one  was  coming.  They  could  hear  an  occa- 
sional clink  of  iron  striking  stone  as  a  horse,  moving 
at  a  slow  walk,  came  across  the  plateau,  and  then  a 
gentle,  muffled,  rhythmic  series  of  thuds  told  that  he 
was  on  the  jungle  path. 

Finnerty  had  laid  his  heavy  hand  with  a  strong 
grip  on  Lord  Victor's  forearm,  the  pressure,  almost 
painful,  conveying  to  that  young  man's  mind  an  in- 
articulate threat  that  if  he  voiced  a  warning  some- 
thing would  happen  him;  he  read  its  confirmation  in 
a  pair  of  blue  Irish  eyes  that  stared  at  him  from 
below  contracted  brows. 

A  grey  horse  suddenly  rounding  the  sharp  turn 
came  to  a  halt,  for  Swinton  was  sprawled  fair  across 
the  path. 

A  heavy  veil,  fastened  around  the  girl's  helmet, 
failed  to  release  at  her  trembling,  spasmodic  grasp, 
and  her  face  went  white  as  Swinton,  leisurely  rising, 
stood  just  to  one  side  of  the  stallion's  head,  his  im- 
placable, unreadable  eyes  turned  toward  her.  She 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  267 

knew,  perhaps  from  the  man's  attitude  within  reach 
of  her  bridle  rein,  perhaps  from  the  set  of  that  face, 
perhaps  from  blind  intuition,  that  the  captain  had 
recognised  her. 

Finnerty  came  forward,  lifting  his  helmet  in  an  in- 
terference of  blessed  relief,  for  he,  too,  sensed  that 
there  was  something  wrong — something  even  be- 
yond the  previous  suspicion. 

Lord  Victor,  who  had  sprung  to  his  feet  with  a 
gasping  cry  at  the  girl's  appearance,  stood  limp  with 
apprehension,  his  mind  so  much  of  a  boy's  mind, 
casting  about  futilely  for  some  plan  to  help  her,  for 
there  was  dread  in  her  face,  and,  like  a  boy's  mind, 
his  found  the  solution  of  the  difficulty  in  a  trick,  just 
such  a  trick  as  a  schoolboy  would  pitch  upon.  The 
whole  process  of  its  evolution  had  taken  but  two 
seconds,  so  it  really  was  an  inspiration.  He  darted 
toward  the  horse,  crying  banteringly:  "I  say!  In- 
troduce me,  old  top."  Then  his  foot  caught  in  a 
visionary  root,  and  he  plunged,  his  small,  bare  head 
all  but  burying  itself  in  Swinton's  stomach. 

The  grey  stallion  leaped  from  the  rake  of  a  spur, 
his  thundering  gallop  all  but  drowning  the  blasphe- 
mous reproach  that  issued  from  Swinton's  lips,  as,  in 
a  fury  of  sudden  passion,  he  took  a  deliberate  swing 
at  the  young  nobleman's  nose. 

Finnerty  unostentatiously  crowded  his  bulk  be- 
tween the  two,  saying,  with  an  inward  laugh :  "You're 
a  dangerous  man;  you've  winded  the  captain,  and 
you've  frightened  that  horse  into  a  runaway.  He 
may  break  the  girl's  neck," 


268  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

They  were  a  curious  trio,  each  one  holding  a  mo- 
tive that  the  other  two  had  not  attained  to,  each 
one  now  dubious  of  the  others'  full  intent,  and  yet 
no  one  wishing  to  clear  the  air  by  questions  or  re- 
criminations— not  just  yet,  anyway. 

"What  the  devil  did  the  girl  bolt  for?"  Swinton 
asked  angrily. 

"The  horse  bolted,"  Finnerty  answered,  lying  in 
an  Irishman's  good  cause — a  woman. 

"You  clumsy  young  ass!"  Swinton  hurled  at  Gil- 
fain.  "I  wanted  to "  Then  the  hot  flush  of 

temper,  so  rare  with  him,  was  checked  by  his  master- 
ing passion — secretiveness. 

Lord  Victor  laughed.  "My  dear  and  austere 
mentor,  I  apologise.  In  my  hurry  to  forestall  you 
with  the  young  lady  whom  you  have  ridden  forth 
so  many  mornings  to  meet  I  bally  well  stumped  your 
wicket,  I'm  afraid — and  my  own,  too,  for  we're  both 
bowled." 

Finnerty  philosophically  drew  his  leather  cheroot 
case  and  proffered  it  to  Swinton,  saying:  "Take  a 
weed!" 

The  captain  complied,  lighting  it  in  an  abstraction 
of  remastery.  He  had  made  the  astounding  discov- 
ery that  Marie  was  the  young  lady  from  whose  evil 
influence  Lord  Victor  presumably  had  been  removed 
by  sending  him  to  Darpore,  and,  as  an  enlargement 
of  this  disturbing  knowledge,  was  the  now  hammer- 
ing conviction  that  she  had  brought  the  stolen  papers 
to  be  delivered  to  traitorous  Prince  Ananda. 

At  that  instant  of  his  mental  sequence  the  captain 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  269 

all  but  burned  his  nose,  paralysed  by  a  flashing 
thought.  "Good  Lord!"  he  groaned.  "It  is  these 
papers  that  she  seeks  up  this  way;  the  somebody 
who  is  coming  overland  is  bringing  them  for  fear 
the  authorities  might  have  caught  her  on  the  steamer 
routes."  Then  in  relief  to  this  came  the  remem- 
brance that  so  far  she  had  not  met  the  some  one, 
for  she  travelled  alone.  But  now  that  she — as  he 
read  in  her  eyes — had  recognised  him — her  very  wild 
plunge  to  escape  proved  it — his  chance  of  discover- 
ing anything  would  be  practically  nil ;  he  would  pos- 
sibly receive  the  same  hushing  treatment  that  had 
been  meted  out  to  Perreira,  the  half-caste. 

"Shall  we  go  back  now?"  Lord  Victor  was  asking. 
"It's  rather  tame  to-day;  I'm  not  half  fed  up  on 
tiger  fights  and  elephant  combats." 

"Presently,"  Swinton  answered,  sitting  down  to 
still  more  methodically  correlate  the  points  of  this 
newer  vision.  He  could  not  confide  any  part  of  his 
discovery  to  Finnerty  with  Lord  Victor  present;  he 
would  decide  later  on  whether  he  should,  indeed, 
mention  it  at  all.  At  first  flush  he  had  thought  of 
galloping  after  the  girl,  but  even  if  he  had  succeeded 
in  overtaking  her  what  could  he  do?  If  he  searched 
her  and  found  nothing,  he  would  have  ruined  every- 
thing; probably  Finnerty  would  have  ranged  up  with 
the  girl  against  this  proceeding. 

Further  vibration  of  this  human  triangle,  the  three 
men  of  divers  intent,  was  switched  to  startled  ex- 
pectancy by  the  clang  of  something  upon  the  plateau 
— an  iron-shod  staff  striking  a  stone  or  the  impact 


270  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

of  a  horse's  hoof.  This  was  followed  by  silence. 
Finnerty  stepped  gently  across  to  his  horse,  unslung 
from  the  saddle  his  lo-bore,  and  slipped  two  car- 
tridges into  it  as  he  returned  to  stand  leisurely  against 
a  tree  trunk,  an  uplifted  finger  commanding  silence. 
They  could  now  hear  the  shuffling,  muffled  noises 
which  emanate  from  people  who  travel  a  jungle  trail 
no  matter  how  cautiously  they  move,  and  something 
in  the  multiplicity  of  sounds  intimated  that  several 
units  composed  the  approaching  caravan. 

Two  Naga  spearmen  first  appeared  around  the 
turn,  their  eager,  searching  eyes  showing  they  were 
on  the  alert  for  something.  The  threatening  maw 
of  the  lo-bore  caused  them  to  stand  stock-still,  their 
jungle  cunning  teaching  them  the  value  of  implicit 
obedience.  They  made  no  outcry.  In  four  seconds 
the  shaggy  head  of  a  pony  came  into  view,  and  then 
his  body,  bearing  in  the  saddle  a  sahib,  and  behind 
could  be  seen  native  carriers.  The  man  on  horse- 
back reined  up;  then  he  laughed — a  cynical,  unmu- 
sical sneer  it  was.  He  touched  the  spur  to  his  pony's 
flank,  brushed  by  the  Naga  spearmen,  and,  eyeing 
the  lo-bore  quizzically,  asked:  "Well,  my  dear  boy, 
what's  the  idea?" 

Finnerty  lowered  the  gun,  answering:  "Nothing; 
preparedness,  that's  all.  Thought  it  might  be  a  war 
party  of  Naga  head-hunters  when  I  saw  those  two 
spearmen." 

The  horseman  slipped  from  his  saddle  and  stood 
holding  the  rein;  a  lithe,  sinewy,  lean-faced  man  of 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

forty-five  years,  his  sharp  grey  eyes,  a  little  too  close 
set,  holding  a  vulpine  wariness. 

Swinton  had  noticed  his  easy  pose  in  the  saddle, 
suggesting  polo  command,  and  now  the  two  or  three 
quick,  precise  steps  forward  spoke,  "Service." 

To  Finnerty  the  cynical,  drawling  voice  rang  fa- 
miliar; it  had  a  curious,  metallic,  high-pitched  crisp- 
ness  that  the  drawl  failed  to  smother,  but  the  man's 
face,  caked  with  the  drifting  hill  dust  that  sweat  had 
matrixed,  was  like  a  mask.  Finnerty  proffered  a 
cheroot,  which  the  stranger  accepted  eagerly,  saying: 
"Fancy  my  beggars  bagged  mine.  I've  had  only 
some  native  mixture  to  puff  from  a  crude  clay  pipe  I 
made  and  baked  in  a  fire." 

"Come  from  Tibet  way?"  the  major  queried. 

"No;  been  up  country  buying  cotton  for  Chitta- 
gong  people,  and  got  raided  by  dacoits;  had  to  work 
out  this  way." 

This  story,  even  fantastic  and  sudden-built  as  it 
sounded,  might  have  passed  ordinarily  as  just  the 
rightful  duplicity  of  a  man  not  called  upon  to  con- 
fide the  reasons  of  his  exploration  trip  to  any  one, 
had  not  the  one  word  "Chittagong"  burned  like  acid. 

Swinton  felt  that  the  stranger's  eyes  were  search- 
ing him,  though  his  words  were  for  Finnerty.  Both 
knew  the  speaker  was  lying.  His  whole  get-up  was 
not  the  easy,  indifferent,  restful  apparel  of  a  man 
who  had  been  some  long  time  in  the  jungle.  He 
wore  brown  leather  riding  boots  instead  of  perhaps 
canvas  shoes;  his  limbs  were  incased  in  cord  breeches 
that  spoke  of  a  late  Bond  Street  origin;  a  stock  that 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

had  once  been  white  held  a  horseshoe  pin  studded 
with  moonstones,  its  lower  ends  passing  beneath  a 
gaudily  checked  vest.  This  very  get-up  dinned  fa- 
miliarity into  the  major's  mind;  he  struggled  with 
memory,  mentally  asking,  "Where  have  I  seen  this 
.chap?"  The  tawny  moustache,  bristling  in  pointed 
smoothness,  had  a  rakish  familiarity,  and  yet  the 
echoes  came  from  far  back  on  the  path  of  life,  as 
elusively  haunting  as  a  dream  recalled  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

Abstractedly,  as  they  talked,  the  stranger  shifted 
his  riding  whip  to  his  teeth,  and,  reaching  down  with 
the  liberated  hand,  gave  a  slight  tug  at  his  boot  strap, 
and  that  instant  Finnerty  knew  his  man.  It  was  al- 
most a  gasping  cry  of  recognition:  "Captain  Foley 
— by  all  the  powers  I" 

The  stranger's  face  blanched,  and  Swinton  sprang 
to  his  feet,  galvanised  by  a  tremendous  revelation. 

An  amused  cackle  came  from  beneath  the  tawny 
moustache,  followed  by  an  even-worded  drawl :  "You 
Johnnies  are  certainly  out  for  a  fine  draw  this  morn- 
ing; my  name  happens  to  be  Blake-Hume — Charles 
Blake-Hume." 

Finnerty  grinned.  "The  same  old  delightfully  hu- 
morous Pat  Foley  that  I  knew  in  the  Tenth  Hussars 
at  Umballa,  when  I  was  a  griffin  fresh  out ;  even  in 
the  choice  of  a  new  name  you're  aristocratic — 
'Blake-Hume!'  My  dear  boy,  you  could  no  more 
shed  yourself  than  you  could  that  desire  for  a  fancy 
vest  and  the  moonstone  pin  that  you  wore  in  a  dev 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  JTO 

iltry  of  revolt  against  the  idea  that  moonstones  were 
unlucky." 

Swinton  was  now  convinced  that  Finnerty  had 
made  no  mistake;  he  could  see  it  in  a  sudden  narrow- 
ing of  the  foxy  eyes,  and,  taking  a  step  closer  to  their 
visitor,  he  said:  "Captain  Foley,  your  daughter  Ma- 
rie has  just  passed  down  the  trail." 

This  simple  assertion  had  the  comparative  effect 
of  a  hand  grenade  dropped  midway  between  Fin- 
nerty and  the  stranger;  possibly  the  major  was  the 
more  astounded  one  of  the  two. 

"What,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  are  you  saying, 
man?"  he  cried,  though  he  still  kept  his  steadfast 
blue  eyes  held  on  Captain  Foley,  for  something  in 
the  latter's  attitude  suggested  danger. 

"Simply  this,"  Swinton  answered;  "Captain  Foley 
is  the  father  of  the  girl  known  here  as  Marie  Boelke, 
and  it  was  she  who  stole  a  state  paper  from  the 
possession  of  Earl  Craig." 

"Candour  seems  to  be  a  jewel  above  price  in  the 
jungles  this  morning,  so  my  compliments  to  you,  my 
dear  Captain  Herbert,  government  policeman," 
Foley  snarled. 

Stung  by  the  gratuitous  sneer,  Finnerty  said  with 
feeling:  "Perhaps  'Mad'  Foley" — he  dropped  the 
captain,  knowing  that  Foley  had  been  cast  from  the 
service — "you  also  recognise  me,  but  for  certain 
pieces  of  silver  you  would  deny  it.  Do  you  remember 
the  time  I  saved  you  a  jolly  good  hiding  that  was 
fair  coming  to  you  for  one  of  your  crazy  tricks?" 

"Perfectly,  my  dear  Finnerty;  you  were  known 


274  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

to  the  mess  as  the  'Ulster  Babe';  it  was  just  a  hu- 
mour of  mine  now  to  play  you  a  little,  and  as  for  the 
'bobby'  here,  one  could  never  mistake  those  bits  of 
blue  china  that  have  been  dubbed  the  'farthing  eyes.' 
Indeed  I  know  you  both  quite  well." 

Swinton,  less  edged  than  Finnerty,  now  tendered 
some  cynical  coin  in  payment:  "Perhaps  you  know 
this  young  gentleman  also ;  I  think  he  has  cause  for 
remembering  you." 

"Good  morning,  Lord  Victor !  You  are  in  pleas- 
ant company,"  and  Captain  Foley  let  his  irritating 
cackle  escape.  He  gathered  the  bridle  rein  in  his 
left  hand,  grasping  the  mane  at  his  pony's  wither, 
and  turned  the  stirrup  outward  to  receive  his  foot 
as  preparation  for  a  leisurely  lift  to  the  saddle. 

In  answer  to  a  hand  signal,  Finnerty  lifted  his  10- 
bore  to  cover  Captain  Foley  as  Swinton  said :  "Just 
a  moment,  Mister  Foley;  there  are  certain  formali- 
ties imposed  upon  suspected  persons  crossing  the 
Nepal  border,  which  include  perhaps  a  search.  We 
want  the  papers  your  daughter  stole  from  Earl 
Craig  under  your  influence,  and  for  which  you  were 
paid  German  gold." 

"The  bobby  is  devilish  considerate,  Lord  Gilly,  in 
not  naming  you  as  the  careless  one,  isn't  he  ?  Charm- 
ingly diffident  sort  of  chap  to  put  the  onus  on  the 
venerable  early.  The  old  gent  would  be  tremen- 
dously shocked  to  know  he  was  accused  of  flirting 
with  a  young  girl,  don't  you  think?" 

"I  do  think  something,  which  is  that  you're  no  end 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  275 

of  a  bounder  to  bring  your  daughter's  name  into  your 
flooey  talk,"  Lord  Victor  retorted  angrily. 

"Tell  your  coolies  to  open  up  everything,"  and 
Swinton's  opaque  eyes  held  Foley's  shifty  ones  men- 
acingly, "As  to  yourself,  strip!" 

"The  coolies  are  at  his  majesty's  service,  Mister 
Bobby;  as  for  myself  I'll  see  you  damned  first.  I 
am  in  independent  territory;  Maharajah  Darpore 
is,  like  myself,  not  a  vassal  of  Johnnie  Bull.  If  you 
put  a  hand  on  me  I'll  blink  those  farthing  eyes  of 
yours,  Mister  Bloody  Bobby." 

Next  instant  the  speaker  sprawled  on  his  back, 
both  shoulders  to  the  earthen  mat,  as  Finnerty  threw 
a  quick  wrestler's  hold  across  his  neck.  The  big 
Irishman's  blood  had  been  heated  by  the  very  words 
that  had  roused  Lord  Victor's  anger.  Besides,  this 
was  the  easier  way;  they  had  no  time  for  interna- 
tional equity.  Swinton  quickly  searched  the  pros- 
trate man.  His  boots  were  pulled  off,  the  insoles 
ripped  out — even  a  knife  blade  inserted  between  the 
two  laps  of  the  outer  soles,  practically  wrecking 
them.  A  Webley  revolver  that  hung  from  a  belt 
Foley  wore  was  emptied  of  its  shells;  even  its  barrel 
was  prodded  for  a  hidden  roll  of  thin  paper.  The 
search  of  the  packs  was  most  thorough,  and  fully 
devoid  of  results. 

Foley  laughed  cynically  when  the  two  searchers 
stood  empty-handed,  discomfiture  patent  in  their 
faces. 

"You  turned  the  paper  over  to  your  daughter," 
Swinton  accused  in  an  unusually  verbal  mood. 


276  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"According  to  your  own  statement,  my  dear  gov- 
ernment spy,  you  had  the  young  lady  in  your  hands 
here;  did  you  find  this  apocryphal  document?" 

Swinton's  eyes  met  Finnerty's,  which  were  saying 
quite  plainly:  "The  girl  has  beaten  us  out!"  There 
also  lingered  in  the  Irishman's  eyes,  Swinton  fancied, 
a  pathetic  look  of  regret  that  now  there  could  be 
no  doubt  about  her  mission;  he  even  heard  a  deep- 
drawn  breath,  such  as  a  game  better  takes  when  he 
has  lost  heavily. 

"A  devilish  nice  mess  you  have  made  of  your  life 
and  your  daughter's,  Captain  Foley,"  Lord  Victor 
suddenly  ejaculated.  "You  were  a  'king's  bad  bar- 
gain' in  the  army,  and  you're  a  man's  bad  bargain 
out  of  it." 

Foley  stared;  then  he  sneered:  "The  young  cock 
must  be  cutting  his  spurs.  Rather  tallish  order  from 
a  waster,  Lord  Gilly."  He  turned  to  Captain  Swin- 
ton. "Now  that  you  have  performed  your  police 
duties  I  have  a  bottle  of  Scotch,  which  no  doubt  you 
observed  among  my  traps,  and  if  you  gentlemen  have 
no  objection  to  joining  me  we'll  drink  a  toast,  'Happy 
to  meet,  sorry  to  part,  and  happy  to  meet  again.'  ' 

"I  don't  drink  with  the  king's  enemies!"  Swinton 
clipped  the  words  with  a  sound  as  if  coins  dropped. 

"Nor  I — with  thieves,"  added  Lord  Victor. 

"I'm  sorry  for  you,  my  boy,"  the  major  said  sol- 
emnly. "I'm  ashamed  to  refuse  to  drink  with  an 
Irishman,  but  I'm  fed  up  on  traitors." 

Swinton  drew  the  major  to  one  side.  When  they 
had  finished  a  discussion  as  to  whether  there  was  any 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  277 

benefit  in  detaining  Foley  or  not,  which  was  settled 
in  the  negative,  Foley  asked,  a  sneer  curling  the 
tawny  moustache:  "Well,  you  pair  of  bobbies,  do  I 
pass?" 

"You  may  go — to  hell!"  Finnerty  added  the 
warm  destination  in  bitterness  of  soul  over  his  shat- 
tered dream. 

The  coolies  had  repacked  their  burdens;  the  two 
Naga  spearmen  at  a  command  trotted  down  the 
path ;  Foley  swung  into  the  saddle,  and  with  a  mock- 
ing, "Au  revoir,  Lord  Gilly,  Mister  Bobby,  and  my 
dear  Ulster  Babe,"  was  gone. 

"Dished !"  Finnerty  exclaimed  bitterly. 

"The  girl — we  are  outwitted  by  a  woman!"  Swin- 
ton  admitted  despondently. 

"You  two  Johnnies  have  thrown  up  your  tails," 
Lord  Victor  objected.  "If  the  girl  has  the  docu- 
ment you're  so  cocksure  of,  it's  something  to  know 
that  it's  in  Darpore.  That's  what  I  call  a  deuced 
good  clue." 

"My  dear  boy,"  Finnerty  said,  under  evident  con- 
trol, "you're  as  innocent  as  a  babe.  You  don't  hap- 
pen to  know  that  there's  a  mutiny  near  ripe  in  Dar- 
pore, and  it  just  needed  a  torch,  such  as  this  docu- 
ment, to  set  the  whole  state  in  a  blaze." 

Swinton,  galvanised  out  of  his  habitual  control, 
added  fiercely:  "And,  you  young  ass!  You  knew 
who  the  girl  was;  we  saw  you  at  Jadoo  Pool — we 
saved  your  life.  If  I'd  known  that  it  was  Marie 
Foley  I'd  have  dogged  every  footstep  she  took " 

"But  you  knew  when  you  had  her  here,"  Lord 


278  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Victor  objected,  momentarily  forgetting  his  part  in 
that  episode. 

"Yes,  by  Heaven,  I  did,  and  I  can  thank  your 
sprawling  interference  for  her  escape !  Why  didn't 
you  tell  us  that  it  was  the  girl  who  had  stolen  these 
state  papers?" 

"I've  got  a  floaty  idea  that  this  lack  of  mutual 
confidence  originated  with  your  honourable  self,  Cap- 
tain— Captain  Herbert,  as  I  now  learn  your  name  is. 
Do  you  think  the  earl  would  have  countenanced  my 
accepting  the  hospitality  of  a  prince  accompanied  by 
a  government  spy?" 

"You've  answered  your  own  question,  Lord  Vic- 
tor," Swinton  said  quietly.  "Earl  Craig  belongs  to 
the  old  school,  the  Exeter  Hall  crowd  who  believe 
the  Oriental  is  an  Occidental — India  for  the  Indians 
is  their  motto — and  that  the  Hun  is  a  civilised  gen- 
tleman, not  as  some  of  us  know  him,  a  rapacious 
brute  who  seeks  to  dominate  the  world.  It  is  that 
cabal,  the  Haldane  tribe,  in  psychic  affinity  with  the 
soulless  Hun,  that  makes  it  possible  for  this  cuckoo 
creature,  Boelke,  to  plant  his  eggs  of  sedition  in  the 
Darpore  nest.  Earl  Craig  would  not  have  been  a 
party  to  my  way  of  unmasking  or  clearing  the  Dar- 
pores,  father  and  son;  he'd  call  it  un-English.  But 
I  may  say  I  did  not  come  out  here  to  watch  you; 
there  was  no  suspicion  that  you  would  come  in  con- 
tact with  the  stolen  paper.  My  mission  was  con- 
cerned with  some  arms  that  are  headed  for  India. 
I  hope  you  see  why  it  was  thought  advisable  to  keep 
you  in  ignorance  of  my  status." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  279 

Lord  Victor  did  not  assimilate  this  rapidly  worded 
statement  as  quickly  as  it  was  offered.  He  pondered 
a  little,  and  then  said:  "I  did  not  know  that  Marie 
Foley  was  here,  and  she  got  no  end  of  a  surprise 
when  I  turned  up.  It  was  all  a  bally  fluke  her  arrang- 
ing to  meet  me;  she  funked  it  when  that  gold  cig- 
arette case  was  handed  her  by  Prince  Ananda  with 
the  information  that  I  had  found  it.  She  thought  I 
had  recognised  it,  which  I  hadn't;  at  least  it  dan- 
gled in  my  memory,  but  I  hadn't  connected  it  with 
her.  She  rode  down  the  hill,  and  when  she  saw  me 
coming  along  dropped  a  note  so  that  I  saw  it  fall — 
devilish  clever,  I  call  it — making  an  appointment  at 
Jadoo  Pool,  and  there  she  made  me  promise  not  to 
denounce  her." 

"Somewhat  easy,  I  fancy,"  Swinton  said  sarcastic- 
ally; "threw  the  glamour  of  love  over  you." 

"You  dear  old  bachelor!  You  have  very  vision- 
ary ideas  of  that  matter.  She  doesn't  care  two  straws 
for  me;  it  was  purely  a  matter  of  'on  honour'  busi- 
ness, because  she  gave  me  her  solemn  word  that  she 
hadn't  stolen  the  document,  and  that  she  hadn't 
brought  it  out  to  Darpore.  As  to  the  'grand  pas- 
sion,' I  have  a  floaty  idea  that  the  handsome  major, 
with  his  trick  of  life-saving,  has  taken  Marie's 
fancy." 

Finnerty  blushed,  but  Swinton  said  gloomily: 
"You  see  the  result  of  believing  her.  She  was  just 
too  fiendishly  cunning;  she  hadn't  the  paper,  but 
knew  that  her  traitor  father  was  bringing  it  and  that 
she,  comparatively  immune  from  search,  could  safely 


280  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

carry  it  to  the  last  lap  of  its  journey.  She  knew  that 
we  were  liable  to  intercept  the  father  and  very  prob- 
ably search  him." 

"Looks  like  it,"  Finnerty  commented.  "I  didn't 
know  that  Foley  had  a  daughter;  I  heard  he'd  been 
cashiered." 

"He  raced  himself  out  of  the  army — gambled  too 
heavily,"  Swinton  explained;  "then,  it  being  the  only 
thing  he  cared  for,  went  at  it  professionally  till  he 
raced  himself  out  of  England.  After  that  he  drifted 
to  Austria  and  married  a  Viennese,  reported  to  be 
of  noble  family.  Whether  it  was  a  chance  to  plant 
a  spy  in  England  or  that  the  woman  really  fell  in 
love  with  him  I  don't  know.  Marie,  of  course,  is  the 
daughter,  and  between  them  the  Foleys  stole  that 
document  through  a  chance  that  came  because  of 
Lord  Victor's  fancy  for  the  girl." 

Swinton  had  spoken  without  any  feeling  in  his 
voice — automatically,  like  a  witness  giving  evidence. 
Gilfain  seemed  to  understand  this,  for  he  made  no 
comment.  But  Finnerty  said  lugubriously :  "Devilish 
nasty  mess,  and  we've  been  dished."  He  picked  up 
the  lo-bore,  and,  going  over  to  his  horse,  strapped 
it  under  his  saddle  flap,  saying:  "We'd  better  jog 
back." 


Chapter  XX 

TWO  legs  of  the  mental  triangle  somewhat 
folded  together  as  it  dribbled  down  the  forest 
path,  Finnerty  and  Swinton  riding  in  the  lead 
and  Lord  Victor,  with  the  depressing  conviction  that 
he  had  muddled  things,  behind. 

"It's  pretty  well  cleared  up,"  Swinton  remarked 
in  a  tone  that  just  reached  Finnerty. 

"And  looks  rather  bad  for  us  being  able  to  handle 
the  situation  without  telegraphing  headquarters," 
the  major  answered  despondently. 

"Small  chance  for  that,"  and  Swinton  laughed  in 
bitterness.  "Our  new  Nana  Sahib,  Ananda,  will 
have  the  wires  cut  or  the  operator  under  control; 
we'll  get  no  word  out  of  here  until  the  thing  has 
happened." 

Finnerty  also  realised  how  completely  they  had 
been  blanked.  "By  heavens,  we've  got  to  spike  the 
guns  ourselves!  We'd  better  be  killed  in  the  at- 
tempt than  be  censured  by  government,"  he  declared. 

"I  think  so.  They've  left  it  to  us  so  far,  and  the 
blame  is  really  on  our  shoulders,  old  man." 

"We'll  never  get  the  paper,"  Finnerty  said  with 
conviction. 

"I  agree  with  you  in  that,  but  we've  got  to  get  the 
machine  guns  and  their  ammunition;  without  them 
they'd  be  an  unarmed  rabble,  and  no  great  harm 

281 


282  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

could  be  done  before  a  regiment  from  Dumdum  or 
Lucknow  could  be  thrown  in  here.  It's  a  crazy 
scheme  of  Ananda's,  anyway,  but  the  Mad  Mullah 
in  the  Sudan  cost  many  a  British  life  because  he  was 
held  too  lightly  at  first  and  got  guns." 

Finnerty  had  been  restlessly  eyeing  the  trail  they 
travelled.  Now  he  worded  the  reason,  which  he 
had  carried  unplaced  in  words  before:  "Going  and 
coming  IVe  been  looking  for  tracks  left  by  that 
party  of  gun  runners  the  Banjara  told  about,  but 
IVe  seen  none.  This  path  that  the  girl  followed  is 
not  the  main  trail  leading  up  through  Safed  Jan 
Pass,  and  those  accursed  Huns,  with  their  usual  Ger- 
man thoroughness,  built  that  drawbridge  at  the  old 
temple  so  that  Foley  could  slip  in  without  a  chance 
of  being  met.  The  whole  thing  is  as  clear  as  mud; 
he  was  to' wait  there  till  the  girl  came  for  the  docu- 
ment. When  we  get  lower  down  we'll  cut  across  the 
jungle  to  the  regular  trail — it's  an  old  elephant  high- 
way— and  check  up." 

"We've  got  to  get  into  that  underground  fort," 
Swinton  said  with  solemn  determination  in  his  voice. 
"Jadoo  Cave  has  got  something  to  do  with  the  en- 
trance." 

A  disconcerting  thought  struck  Finnerty.  "The 
minute  we  show  up  we'll  be  surrounded  by  spies. 
They're  in  my  bungalow  all  the  time;  we'll  not  get 
a  chance." 

There  was  a  warning  cough  from  behind,  and 
then  Lord  Victor,  urging  his  horse  closer,  said: 
"Don't  bar  me,  you  fellows,  from  anything  that's 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  283 

on;  I  don't  want  to  be  'sent  to  Coventry.'  If  it's  a 
question  of  fight,  for  God's  sake  give  me  a  gun.  I'd 
rather  have  you  damn  me  like  a  bargee  than  be  left 
out.  I  can't  bally  well  plan  anything — I'm  not  up 
to  it — but  I'm  an  Englishman." 

"My  dear  boy,"  Finnerty  answered,  "we  know 
that.  If  we'd  taken  you  in  at  the  start  we'd  have 
given  you  a  better  chance,  but  we  all  make  blunders." 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  when  Finnerty,  halting, 
said:  "I  know  where  I'm  at  now;  the  other  trail  lies 
due  west,  and  if  we  keep  our  faces  full  on  Old  Sol 
we'll  make  it." 

Through  the  jungle  without  a  path  their  progress 
was  slow.  At  times  they  were  turned  into  big  de- 
tours by  interlaced  walls  of  running  elephant  creeper 
and  vast  hedges  of  the  sahbar  kirao,  the  "have-pa- 
tience plant"  that,  with  its  hooked  spikes,  was  like 
a  fence  of  barbed  wire.  Their  minds,  tortured  by 
the  impending  calamity,  were  oblivious  to  the 
clamour  of  the  jungle.  A  bear  that  had  climbed  a 
dead  tree  inhabited  by  bees  scuttled  down  to  the 
ground,  an  animated  beehive,  his  face  glued  with 
honey,  his  paws  dripping  with  it,  and  his  thick  fur 
palpitating  with  the  beat  of  a  million  tiny  wings. 
He  humped  away  in  a  shuffling  lope,  unmolested; 
not  even  a  laugh  followed  his  grotesque  form. 

It  was  five  o'clock  when  they  struck  the  Safed 
Jan  Trail  and  swung  southward,  Finnerty's  eyes  tak- 
ing up  the  reading  of  its  page.  "Ah!"  he  cried  sud- 
denly, and,  pulling  his  horse  to  a  standstill,  he 
dropped  to  the  ground. 


284  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

In  the  new  partnership  he  turned  rather  to  Lord 
Victor,  saying:  "We've  been  told  that  machine  guns 
and  ammunition  have  been  run  into  Darpore  over 
the  same  Chittagong  route  we  think  Mad  Foley  used, 
only  they've  come  along  this  trail  from  the  pass." 
He  dipped  his  thumb  into  one  of  the  numerous  deep 
heel  prints,  adding:  "See!  The  carriers  were  heavy 
loaded  and  there  were  many." 

From  the  varied  weathering  of  the  tracks  it  was 
apparent  that  carriers  had  passed  at  different  inter- 
vals of  time. 

The  major  remounted,  and  they  had  ridden  half 
an  hour  when  his  horse  pricked  his  ears  and  the 
muscles  of  his  neck  quivered  in  an  action  of  discov- 
ery. Finnerty  slipped  his  lo-bore  from  its  holding 
straps,  passed  his  bridle  rein  to  Swinton,  and,  drop- 
ping to  the  ground,  went  stealthily  around  a  bend  in 
the  path.  He  saw  nothing — no  entrapping  armed 
natives — but  a  voice  came  to  him  from  its  unseen 
owner,  saying  softly:  "Salaam!  I  am  the  herdsman, 
and  am  here  for  speech  with  the  sahib." 

"All  right.    Come  forth!"  the  major  answered. 

From  a  thick  screen  of  brush  the  Banjara  stepped 
out,  saying:  "My  brother  is  beyond  on  the  trail,  and 
from  his  perch  in  a  tree  he  has  given  the  call  of  a 
bird  that  I  might  know  it  was  the  keddah  sahib  that 
passed;  he  will  soon  be  here." 

Finnerty  called,  and  Swinton  and  Lord  Victor 
came  forward.  Presently  the  fellow  arrived,  and, 
at  a  word  from  the  herdsman,  said :  "Nawab  Darna 
Singh  sends  salaams  to  the  keddah  sahib." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  285 

Finnerty  stared  in  amazement.  "Why  should  he 
have  sent  you,  knowing  that  a  Banjara  does  not  kiss 
the  hand  that  has  beaten  him  like  a  dog?" 

"Because  of  that,  huzoor.  Darna  Singh  is  also 
treated  like  a  dog,  for  he  is  put  in  a  cage,  and  those 
who  are  beaten  join  together  against  the  whip." 

"Why  is  Darna  Singh  caged?" 

The  man  cast  an  uneasy  glance  toward  Lord  Vic- 
tor and  hesitated.  Sensing  the  reason  for  this,  Fin- 
nerty said:  "Speak  the  truth  and  fear  not." 

"We  of  this  country  know  that  the  sahibs  are 
quick  to  anger  if  the  mem-sahibs  are  spoken  of,  but 
it  is  because  of  the  young  mem-sahib  that  Darna 
Singh  suffers.  There  is  to  be  war,  and  Darna  Singh 
came  to  know — though  it  may  be  a  lie — that  the 
mem-sahib  would  be  made  maharani — perhaps  not 
a  gudi  maharani — and  his  sister  would  be  taken  with 
a  fever  and  die.  And  it  may  be  that  in  a  passion 
over  this  he  sought  to  end  the  matter  with  a  thrust 
of  a  knife,  but  I  have  heard  that  Rajah  Ananda  re- 
ceived but  a  slight  cut." 

"I'mifdamned  sorry  for  that,  for  the  nawab  has  a 
strong  arm." 

"Darna  Singh  was  indeed  unlucky,  sahib,  for  Ra- 
jah Ananda  had  been  taught  in  Belati  to  strike  with 
the  hand  and  that  saved  him." 

"Where  is  the  Nawab  caged?" 

"Below;  where  the  guns  are." 

Finnerty  caught  a  quick  flash  of  the  eye  from  Swin- 
ton. 

"And  if  that  is  the  truth,  that  you  come  from  him 


286  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

must  be  a  lie,  for  a  jailer  does  not  give  entrance  to 
friends  of  the  prisoner." 

"True,  sahib;  but  the  rani  is  not  caged,  and  she 
fears  for  the  life  of  her  brother,  and  knowing  I  had 
been  beaten  by  the  rajah  and  knowing  that  a  Ban- 
jara  does  not  forgive,  for  our  tribe  is  many  in  her 
father's  state,  she  sent  by  a  handmaid,  who  is  also 
of  our  tribe,  a  ring  of  keys  that  were  Darna  Singh's, 
and  the  woman  was  taught  to  say,  'Give  these  to  the 
keddah  sahib  and  tell  him  that  war  comes  to  the 
sircar;  that  these  keys  open  the  way  where  are 
many  guns  and  where  now  is  Darna  Singh.' ' 

The  man  took  from  the  folds  of  his  turban  a  ring 
upon  which  were  three  keys.  Finnerty  received  them 
in  astonishment;  then  he  asked:  "Where  are  the 
doors?" 

"The  black  leopard  came  out  from  his  cage 
through  Jadoo  Cave,  and  it  may  be  that  Darna  Singh 
opened  a  door  of  the  cave  with  one  of  these  keys." 

"Damn  it!"  Swinton  ejaculated.  "That's  the 
whole  thing."  But  Finnerty  objected:  "We  parched 
that  cave,  and  there  was  no  door." 

"True,  there  is  no  door,  but  there  is  a  passage 
high  up  in  the  gloom,  and  beyond  that  is  a  cave  that 
was  made  by  the  foreigners,  and  in  that  is  the  door. 
And  also  it  opens  to  the  trail  that  we  are  now  on." 
The  native  messenger  was  explicit. 

"By  Jove !"  Finnerty  exclaimed.  "That's  how  the 
leopard  slipped  away." 

The  herdsman  said:    "I  did  not  know  of  this,  and 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  287 

perhaps  wrongly  accused  that  monkey-faced  shikari 
of  sleeping  over  his  task." 

The  messenger  now  said  deprecatingly :  "A  watch- 
man knows  the  many  manners  of  acquiring  to  the  in- 
side of  a  bungalow  without  being  seen,  and  one  way 
is  to  wait  for  darkness.  Also  they  will  watch  the 
sahib's  bungalow  for  his  return." 

"Very  well,"  Finnerty  said;  "if  I  am  able  to  see 
to  it,  my  faithful  fellow,  when  this  is  over  the  sircar 
will  give  to  you  and  your  brother  a  village  that  you 
may  collect  the  tithes  from  and  have  a  home." 

"Sahib,  I  have  received  my  pay  in  advance  from 
the  rajah;  I  am  but  serving  in  the  manner  of  the 
pay." 

"Sit  you  then,"  Finnerty  commanded,  "while  we 
talk  in  plans." 

"We've  a  chance,  major,  now  that  we  can  get  in," 
Swinton  declared.  "I  have  my  cordite  rifle,  you  have 
your  lo-bore,  and  if  we  can  but  get  command  of 
their  ammunition  we'll  blow  the  damn  thing  up,  even 
if  we  go  with  it." 

Finnerty  felt  that  there  was  no  question  about  the 
captain's  sincerity;  the  flat  blue  eyes  transmitted  noth- 
ing but  fixed  purpose. 

"Oh,  I  say,  am  I  in  the  discard?"  Lord  Victor 
asked  plaintively,  for  the  messenger's  information 
had  been  translated  in  a  condensed  form,  Finnerty 
rather  emphasising  the  important  part  Marie  played 
as  the  future  maharani. 

"I  thought  of  that,"  Swinton  answered;  "you  will 
be  a  'reserve  battalion.'  I  don't  mind  being  pipped 


288  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

in  the  way  of  duty — rather  expect  it  some  day — but 
I  should  rather  like  my  family  to  know  that  I  pegged 
out  playing  the  game,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
we're  bagged  in  that  cubby-hole,  that  it  would  never 
be  known  just  how  we  had  disappeared." 

"Besides,  youngster,"  Finnerty  added,  "if  you  can 
work  yourself  into  communication  with  the  govern- 
ment we  want  you  to  let  them  know  what  is  trump." 
The  major  spoke  to  the  Banjara;  then  he  returned 
to  Lord  Victor :  "This  chap  will  smuggle  you  out,  he 
says,  and  I  think  he  can  do  it.  His  brother  will 
bring  you  word  if  we  get  out,  and  even  if  he  knows 
we've  been  captured  he  will  come  to  tell  you ;  at  any 
rate,  if  we're  not  reported  safe  before  morning  you 
had  better  take  the  horses  and  get  away — the  Ban- 
jara can  stick  on  one,  he  says." 

"Don't  worry  over  us,  Gilfain,"  Swinton  added; 
"just  get  word  out  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Then  the  watchman  said:  "The  sahib  sent  back 
out  of  the  jungle  the  elephant  with  the  bell,  and  it 
is  a  sacred  elephant  for  such  as  worship  the  god  that 
sits  in  sleep." 

"It  is  a  sacred  elephant  to  those  who  worship 
Buddha,"  Finnerty  answered. 

"The  woman  who  came  from  the  maharani  said 
that  Rajah  Ananda  has  taken  the  sacred  elephant 
in  his  hand,  for  to-night  is  a  night  of  omen  at  the 
Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin." 

"By  gad!"  Finnerty  cried.  "That  swine  has  got 
the  three  sapphires  together  now.  Nothing  will  stop 
him;  he'll  be  fanatically  insane." 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  289 

A  sibilant  whistle  from  Swinton  was  his  only  com- 
ment. The  thought  was  paralysing. 

"Well" — Finnerty  sighed  the  words — "we'll  just 
sit  here  till  it's  dark,  and  then  play  our  last  card." 
He  pulled  his  belt,  in  which  was  a  hunting  knife,  a 
hole  tighter,  as  if  girding  his  loins  for  the  fray. 

The  Banjara  now  said:  "Rajah  Ananda  will  send 
out  men  to  look  for  you  on  the  trail,  sahib,  but  if 
you  will  go  east  through  the  jungle  to  where  there  is 
a  small  path — one  the  sahib  no  doubt  knows — my 
brother  and  I  will  lead  the  horses  back  up  over  this 
broad  trail  to  a  nala  with  a  stony  bed,  and  then 
through  the  jungle  and  back  to  where  you  wait,  so 
that  those  who  come  forth  will  say:  'The  keddah 
sahib  and  his  friends  came  down  and  then  went  back 
again  to  the  hills,  perhaps  to  follow  a  bison.' ' 

"Splendid!"  Finnerty  commented,  and  added  in 
commendation:  "  'To  a  strong  man  a  wrong  done  is 
more  power.'  ' 

Then  Finnerty  and  his  companion  cut  across 
through  the  jungle.  It  was  a  good  ruse,  for  the 
rajah's  men,  thinking  the  sahibs  were  up  in  the  jungle, 
would  not  guard  every  approach. 

The  sun  was  now  sinking  on  the  horizon,  and  with 
its  usual  bird  clamour  of  eventide  the  day  was  pass- 
ing. Once,  as  they  waited,  Lord  Victor  said:  "I 
don't  believe  that  girl  would  join  herself  to  a  na- 
tive." 

"That's  because  you're  in  the  full  moon  of  faith, 
my  young  friend.  At  your  age  I  believed  in  fairies, 
too,"  Finnerty  said. 


290  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

"Just  the  sort  of  faith,"  Swinton  contributed, 
"that  gives  such  women  their  power  for  mischief;  a 
Prussian  spy  must  do  as  she  is  told,  and  if  she  were 
allotted  to  Ananda,  to  Ananda  she  goes." 

A  shrill  note  that  might  have  been  from  a  boat- 
swain's silver  whistle  or  a  red-breasted  teal  came 
floating  up  from  where  they  had  left  the  Safed  Jan 
Trail.  It  was  answered  from  on  toward  the  palace  hill. 

"Ananda's  men  have  found  where  the  horses  have 
turned  to  go  back  up  into  the  hills,"  Finnerty 
chuckled. 

"Deucedly  clever  work  of  that  Banjara,"  Lord 
Victor  declared;  "sorry  I  shot  the  old  infidel's  dog." 

A  little  later  the  whistling  note,  repeated  three 
times,  came  from  (higher  up,  where  the  Safed  Jan 
Trail  lay. 

The  forest  was  dark  from  the  drop  of  night's 
curtain  when  the  Banjara  and  his  brother  came  so 
softly  along  the  scarce  discernible  trail  that  they  were 
almost  upon  the  sahibs  before  they  were  heard. 

"The  moon  will  appear  in  two  hours,  sahib,  and 
its  light  would  betray  you,"  the  herdsman  advised, 
"so  it  is  well  that  we  take  the  horses  down  this 
path  which  no  one  travels  at  night,  and  when  we 
have  come  close  to  Jadoo  Nala  I  will  remain  with 
the  horses  and  you  will  go  with  my  brother  into 
the  cave." 

When  they  had  come  to  a  proper  place  to  leave 
their  horses  in  the  jungle,  Lord  Victor  said:  "The 
strategy  of  you  two  Johnnies  isn't  what  I'd  call  first 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  291 

chop.  I'll  be  a  dub  at  this  sortie  game,  for  I  don't 
know  the  language." 

"The  Banjara  does,"  Finnerty  said  shortly. 

"There's  another  thing,"  the  youth  resumed; 
"either  of  you  chaps  are  sort  of  serviceable  to  the 
king,  probably  cost  him  a  thousand  pounds  up  to 
date  for  your  training,  and  I'm — as  our  delightful 
friend  Foley  phrased  it — a  waster.  Sabe,  my  dear 
major?" 

"My  dear  boy,  you're  in  training  for  the  future 
earlship.  A  thoroughbred  colt  isn't  much  benefit  to 
the  realm,  but  he  generally  develops  into  something 
worth  while — sabe?" 

"Thanks,  old  top!  Rather  think  I'll  stow  that 
away  as  a  good  tip.  But  to  return:  I'd  feel  rather 
thankful  to  take  a  chance  inside  to — well,  come 
back." 

"You  mean  about  the  girl?  We  just  forgot  all 
that,  and  are  now  trying  to  do  the  best  we  can  for 
what's  to  come,  and  your  place  is  just  where  you've 
been  stationed;  that  is,  unless  you're  in  command." 

Lord  Victor  sprang  to  his  feet,  clicked  his  heels 
together,  very  erect  and  soldierly,  for  he  had  been  at 
Sandhurst,  and  saluted.  With  a  laugh  Finnerty 
said:  "Fall  out!"  The  discussion  ceased. 

From  where  they  were  they  could  hear,  at  times, 
curious,  muffled  noises  disturbing  the  evening  quiet, 
coming  from  the  palace  hill.  Finnerty  now  gave 
some  final  advice: 

"It  is  now  eight  o'clock.    If  we  do  not  come  back 


292  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

for  the  horses  or  get  you  word  before  morning, 
make  for  the  outside.  Have  you  any  money?" 

"Not  much,"  Lord  Victor  answered. 

Finnerty  and  Swinton  gave  him  the  money  they 
had,  the  former  saying:  "If  we  get  caught  in  that 
cave  we  won't  need  these  rupees  to  pay  board  for 
long,  I  fancy."  He  held  out  his  hand,  and  the  youth 
took  it,  saying:  "I'll  remember  about  the  thorough- 
bred colt." 

Swinton  shook  hands  with  him,  saying:  "Duty  is 
the  best  tutor,  Lord  Victor;  it's  a  steadier,  eh?" 

"Sorry  about — well,  the — that  silly  break  of  mine 
about  secret  service,  you  know." 

The  Banjara,  noting  this  completion  of  detail, 
said:  "And  the  matter  of  a  village,  huzoor — does  the 
young  Lord  Sahib  understand  that  he  is  to  tell  the 
sircar  that  me  and  my  brother  have  been  true  to  their 
salt?" 

"I  will  tell  him  to  not  forget,  my  friend,  for  you 
will  well  deserve  it,"  the  major  answered. 

When  he  had  impressed  this  matter  upon  Gilfain, 
Finnerty  held  out  his  hand  to  the  Banjara :  "Brother, 
you  are  a  man." 

"We  Banjaras  are  taught  by  our  mothers  that  we 
are  to  become  men,"  the  herdsman  answered  with 
simple  dignity. 

Like  the  sealing  of  a  solemn  compact  between 
the  members  of  a  brotherhood  was  this  exchange  of 
handclasps,  Swinton  also  taking  the  Banjara's  hand 
in  a  grasp  of  admiration. 

As  Finnerty  and  Swinton  melted  down  the  gloomed 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  293 

path  with  the  Banjara's  brother,  the  herdsman  stood 
watching  their  going,  repeating  a  tribal  saying:  uln 
the  kingdom  of  men  there  are  no  boundaries." 

When  the  two  sahibs  came  out  to  where  the  Safed 
Jan  Trail  wound  along  the  bed  of  a  nala  approach- 
ing the  palace  plateau,  their  guide  said:  "Just  be- 
yond is  the  new  cave.  I  will  go  forward  to  see  that 
no  one  keeps  the  door,  for  they  will  not  think  it 
strange  that  I  should  be  about.  If  the  sahibs  hear 
the  small  cry  of  a  tree  cricket  they  may  come  for- 
ward." 

In  five  minutes  the  hissing  pipe  of  a  cicada  came 
back  to  their  ears,  and,  slipping  from  the  jungle  to 
the  nala  trail,  they  noiselessly  crept  to  the  dark  portal 
that  yawned  to  the  right  of  their  way.  From  the 
contour  of  the  hill,  outlined  against  an  afterglow  sky, 
Finnerty  knew  that  they  were  on  the  reverse  side  of 
the  jutting  point  that  held  Jadoo  Cave.  As  they  en- 
tered a  gloom  so  intense  they  saw  nothing,  a  whis- 
per reassured  them,  and  the  native's  hand  grasped 
Finnerty's  fingers.  The  major,  understanding, 
reached  back  the  stock  of  his  lo-bore  to  Swinton,  and 
they  went  forward  into  the  blackness.  Soon  the 
watchman  stopped  and  whispered:  "Put  out  your 
hand,  sahib,  and  feel  the  spot  that  is  here." 

By  a  grasp  on  his  wrist  Finnerty's  hand  was 
placed  upon  a  stone  wall,  and  his  fingers,  moving  up 
and  down  and  across,  detected  a  thin  crack  so  truly 
perpendicular  that  it  suggested  mechanics. 

The  native  whispered:  "One  of  the  keys  on  the 
ring  will  unlock  this  that  is  a  door."  Then  he  fum- 


294  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

bled  the  wall  with  his  fingers,  and  presently  found  a 
square  block  of  stone,  saying:  "The  keyhole  is 
within." 

A  long-stemmed  key  on  the  ring  fitted  the  keyhole, 
but  before  Finnerty  could  shoot  the  bolt  the  native 
whispered:  "Not  yet,  sahib."  He  produced  two  can- 
dles and  a  box  of  matches.  "Remember,  sahib,  that 
no  man  owns  the  light  of  a  fire ;  here  is  an  eye  that 
makes  no  betraying  light."  And  he  placed  in  Fin- 
nerty's  fingers  a  slim  male-bamboo  rod. 

At  a  twist  from  Finnerty's  hand  a  heavy  bolt  in 
the  lock  glided  back  with  noiseless  ease ;  a  pull  caused 
the  stone-faced  door  to  swing  forward  in  the  same 
frictionless  quiet,  and  beyond  was  a  gloom  as  deep  as 
that  of  the  cave. 

"I  will  watch,  sahib,"  the  guide  whispered,  "and 
if  it  is  known  that  evil  has  fallen  upon  you  I  will 
warn  the  Lord  Sahib;  if  it  please  the  gods  that  you 
come  forth  I  will  also  carry  to  him  that  good  tale." 

Closing  the  door  behind  them,  the  two  adventur- 
ers stood  in  a  void  so  opaque,  so  devoid  of  sound, 
that  it  produced  a  feeling  of  floating  in  blackened 
space  with  the  earth  obliterated.  Finnerty's  big  hand 
groped  till  it  found  the  captain's  shoulder,  where  it 
rested  for  a  second  in  heavy  assurance ;  then  he  gave 
Swinton  a  candle,  saying:  "If  we  get  separated " 

They  moved  forward,  Finnerty  feeling  the  path 
with  the  bamboo  rod.  He  hugged  the  wall  on  his 
right,  knowing  that  the  passage,  skirting  the  hill  edge, 
must  lead  to  beneath  the  palace.  Suddenly,  shoulder 
high,  the  gloom  was  broken  by  a  square  opening,  and 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  295 

through  it  Finnerty  saw  the  handle  of  the  Dipper  in 
its  sweep  toward  the  horizon.  Beneath  this  port  was 
a  ledge  to  support  a  machine  gun,  as  the  major  sur- 
mised. Every  twenty  feet  were  openings  of  different 
shapes ;  some  narrow,  vertical  slits  for  rifle  fire.  Once 
Finnerty's  rod  touched  a  pillar  in  the  centre  of  the 
passage.  His  fingers  read  grotesque  figures  carved 
upon  its  sides,  and  he  knew  they  were  in  one  of  the 
old  Hindu  rajah's  semisacred  excavated  chambers. 
Twice,  on  his  right,  his  hand  slipped  into  space  as 
he  felt  his  way — open  doorways  from  which  dipped 
stone  steps  to  lower  exits. 

Suddenly  his  bamboo  rod  came  dead  against  an 
obstructing  wall  in  front.  Set  in  this  was  a  flat  steel 
door,  with  a  keyhole  which  admitted  one  of  the  other 
keys.  Finnerty  closed  the  door,  not  locking  it,  but 
when  he  had  taken  two  steps  he  caught  a  clicking 
sound  behind.  Turning  in  apprehension,  he  pushed 
upon  the  door,  but  it  refused  to  give.  He  inserted 
the  key;  the  bolt  was  where  he  had  left  it,  shot  back, 
but  the  door  was  immovable.  A  shiver  twitched  his 
scalp.  Had  he  himself  touched  something  that  auto- 
matically locked  the  door,  or  had  its  swing  carried 
a  warning  to  some  one  who  had  electrically  shot  the 
bolts?  The  door  itself  was  massive  enough  to  hold 
any  sort  of  mechanism;  it  was  like  the  bulkhead  of  a 
battleship. 

Twice  Finnerty  found  a  closed  door  in  the  wall 
on  his  right;  no  doubt  wrthin  the  chamber  beyond 
were  cannon  that  commanded  some  road  of  approach 
to  the  hill.  Next  his  hand  swept  across  a  four-foot 


296  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

space,  and  against  the  farther  wall  of  this  stood  open 
a  heavy  teakwood  door;  from  the  passage  beyond 
drifted  a  nauseating,  carrion  smell,  such  as  hovers 
over  a  tiger's  cage. 

Twenty  yards  beyond,  Swinton  touched  the  major's 
shoulders  and  whispered:  "I  heard  something  be- 
hind; I  feel  that  we  are  being  followed." 

The  major  shivered;  not  through  personal  fear, 
but  if  they  were  trapped,  if  they  failed,  what  blood- 
shed and  foolish  revolt  would  follow.  To  turn  back 
and  search  was  useless;  they  must  keep  on.  They 
must  be  close  to  the  many  chambers  beneath  the  pal- 
ace where  the  ammunition  and  guns,  no  doubt,  were 
kept.  It  was  ominous,  this  utter  absence  of  every- 
thing but  darkness. 

With  a  gasping  breath,  Finnerty  stood  still.  A 
slipping  noise  in  front  had  caught  his  ear,  but  now, 
in  their  own  silence,  they  both  heard  the  slip  of  vel- 
vet feet  on  the  stone  floor  behind,  and  in  their  nos- 
trils struck  full  the  carrion  smell. 

"Tiger!"  Finnerty  whispered,  and  the  pulled-back 
hammers  of  his  gun  clicked  alarmingly  loud  on  the 
death  air. 

In  ten  paces  Finnerty's  gun  barrel  clicked  against 
iron;  it  was  a  door.  They  were  trapped.  Behind, 
the  thing  crept  closer. 

"Light  a  candle  and  hold  it  above  my  head;  I 
must  settle  that  brute,"  he  said,  in  his  mind  also  a 
thought  that  perhaps  the  light  would  frighten  away 
the  animal  that  trailed  them. 

As  Swinton  struck  a  match  it  broke,  its  flickering 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  297 

fall  glinting  green  two  devilish  eyes  in  the  head  of  a 
tiger  that  was  setting  himself  for  a  spring,  ten  feet 
away.  The  roar  of  Finnerty's  lO-bore,  the  two 
shocks  almost  in  one,  nearly  burst  their  eardrums, 
and  Swinton  stood  keyed  to  rigidity  by  the  call  for 
steady  nerve.  There  was  no  rushing  charge.  A 
smothered  cough  from  the  tiger  told  that  blood 
choked  his  lungs. 

A  man's  voice  came  from  the  darkness  almost  at 
their  elbow,  saying:  "Sahib,  I  am  Darna  Singh — a 
friend!" 

"Come  here!"  Finnerty  answered.  "But  no 
treachery!"  For  he  feared  it  might  be  an  imposter. 

Darna  Singh  drew  close,  whispering:  "The  tiger 
is  dead,  so  do  not  make  a  light.  How  did  the  sahib 
get  here — has  he  keys  for  the  door?" 

Finnerty  told  how  the  princess  had  sent  him 
Darna's  ring  of  keys. 

Darna  Singh  explained:  "I  was  cast  in  here  by 
Ananda  to  be  killed  by  the  tiger  who  has  been  let 
down  from  his  cage.  Perhaps  they  do  not  know  that 
you  are  here." 

"Have  they  heard  the  gun?"  the  major  asked. 

"The  doors  are  very  heavy,  and  through  the  rock 
they  would  not  have  heard.  If  they  have,  the  key 
will  not  open  the  door  if  they  wish." 

Then  Darna  Singh  told  what  lay  beyond  the  door. 
The  magazine  was  all  prepared  for  blowing  up 
should  Ananda's  plan  fail  and  there  be  danger  of 
discovery  of  his  imported  guns.  Wires  ran  from  the 
magazine  to  a  room  in  the  palace,  where  a  switch 


298  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

could  bury  everything  in  a  second.  The  passages 
were  lighted  by  electricity,  and  the  dynamo  might 
have  gone  wrong,  causing  the  darkness,  or  it  might 
be  an  entrapping  scheme.  There  would  not  be  more 
than  one  or  two  German  guards  at  the  magazine, 
where  the  guns  were,  and  if  the  sahibs  could  fall 
upon  these  in  the  dark,  Darna  Singh  could  win  over 
the  native  guards,  for  they  did  not  love  Ananda. 

The  door  opened  to  a  key,  showing  beyond  no 
glint  of  light.  They  passed  through;  this  time  Fin- 
nerty,  finding  a  fragment  of  rock,  fixed  it  so  that  the 
door  could  not  be  closed  behind  them.  Hope  sug- 
gested that  the  shot  had  not  been  heard,  for  no 
storm  of  attack  broke  upon  them. 

After  a  time  Darna  Singh  checked,  and,  putting 
his  lips  close  to  Finnerty's  ear,  whispered:  "We  are 
close  to  the  gun  and  ammunition  room.  I  will  go  a 
little  in  advance  and  speak  in  Hindustani  to  the  sen- 
try; he  will  think  it  one  of  their  natives,  and  as  we 
talk  you  must  overpower  him." 

Keeping  within  striking  distance,  Finnerty  and 
Swinton  followed.  As  they  crept  forward,  with 
blinding  suddenness  an  electric  glare  smote  their 
eyes,  and  from  beneath  the  reflected  light  a  machine 
gun  stuck  forth  its  ugly  nose.  Behind  a  steel  shield  a 
German-flavoured  voice  commanded:  "Drop  your 
guns!" 

Both  men  hesitated.  To  surrender  was  almost 
worse  than  death. 

"Obey,  or  get  shot!"  the  ugly  voice  called. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  299 

"We'll  put  them  down,  major,"  Swinton  said; 
"dead  men  are  no  help  to  the  government." 

As  they  laid  down  their  guns  two  Prussians  slipped 
into  the  light  and  picked  them  up.  From  behind  the 
steel  shield  two  others  appeared,  and  following  them 
loomed  the  gorilla  form  of  Doctor  Boelke,  his  face 
wreathed  in  a  leer  of  triumph. 

At  a  command  in  German,  one  of  the  men  swung 
open  an  iron-barred  door,  disclosing,  as  he  touched 
a  button,  a  cell  ten  feet  square.  Boelke  turned  to 
Finnerty:  "Major,  you  haf  intruded  without  der 
ceremony  of  an  invitation;  I  now  invite  you  to  make 
yourself  at  home  in  der  guest  chamber." 

"Your  humour,  like  yourself,  is  coarse,"  Finnerty 
retorted. 

"You  vill  enter  der  door,  or "  Boelke  waved 

a  hand,  and  the  bayonets  were  advanced  to  within 
striking  distance,  while  the  machine  gun  clicked  om- 
inously. 

Finnerty  realised  that  to  resist  was  suicide;  no 
doubt  Boelke  would  prefer  to  have  an  excuse  for  kill- 
ing them — there  was  absolute  murder  in  the  bleary 
animal  eyes. 

Swinton  said  in  an  even,  hard  voice:  "The  British 
government  will  have  you  shot  as  a  German  spy." 

"Perhaps  Captain  Herbert  vill  be  shot  as  an  Eng- 
lish spy  to-morrow;  und  now" — Boelke  raised  his 
arm — "ven  I  drop  my  hand  you  vill  be  shot  for  re- 
sisting arrest." 

"We  won't  give  the  hound  an  excuse  for  murder," 
Finnerty  said,  leading  the  way  through  the  door.  A 


300  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

German  followed  them  in,  and  ran  his  hands  over 
their  bodies  for  revolvers;  finding  Finnerty's  hunting 
knife,  he  took  it  away.  The  door  was  locked,  and  a 
guard  placed  in  front  of  it. 

It  was  only  now  that  the  two  noticed  that  Darna 
Singh  had  disappeared;  nobody  seemed  to  have  seen 
him;  he  had  simply  vanished.  Probably  the  guard, 
even  if  they  saw  him,  took  him  to  be  one  of  their  own 
natives — not  associated  with  the  sahibs  who  had 
dropped  into  their  hands. 


Chapter  XXI 

CAPTAIN  FOLEY  sat  in  Doctor  Boelke's  big 
chair  in  the  doctor's  bungalow,  seeing  a  lovely 
vision  in  the  smoke  which  curled  upward  from 
his  cheroot;  he  saw  himself  the  possessor  of  two  race 
horses  he  would  buy  when  he  went  back  to  Europe 
— perhaps  it  would  have  to  be  in  Germany — with 
the  money  Boelke  had  gone  to  the  palace  for.  The 
crafty  captain  had  demanded  "money  down" — the 
two  thousand  pounds  he  was  to  have  for  delivering 
the  stolen  paper,  and  that,  too,  before  he  showed  the 
paper.  To  guard  against  force,  he  had  allowed  Ma- 
rie to  keep  the  document,  but  Marie  should  have  been 
in  the  bungalow;  however,  she  could  not  be  far — she 
would  be  in  shortly. 

From  where  he  sat  at  Boelke's  flat  desk,  Foley 
looked  upon  a  wall  of  the  room  that  was  panelled  in 
richly  carved  teakwood,  and  from  a  brass  rod  hung 
heavy  silk  curtains.  On  the  panel  that  immediately 
fronted  his  eyes  was  Ganesha,  a  pot-bellied,  elephant- 
headed  god;  a  droll  figure  that  caught  the  captain's 
fancy,  especially  when  it  reeled  groggily  to  one  side 
to  uncover  an  opening  through  which  a  dark,  brilliant 
eye  peered  at  him.  The  captain's  face  held  placid 
under  this  mystic  scrutiny,  but  his  right  hand  gently 
pulled  a  drawer  of  the  desk  open,  disclosing  a  Mauser 
pistol. 

301 


302  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

When  the  whole  panel  commenced  to  slide  silently, 
he  lifted  the  pistol  so  that  its  muzzle  rested  on  the 
desk.  Through  the  opening  created  in  the  wall  a 
handsome  native  stepped  into  the  room,  salaamed, 
and,  turning,  closed  the  aperture;  then  he  said:  "I 
am  Nawab  Darna  Singh,  the  brother  of  Rajah  An- 
anda's  princess.  May  I  close  the  door,  sahib?" 

Foley  lifted  the  Mauser  into  view,  drawling:  "If 
you  wish;  I  have  a  key  here  to  open  it,  if  necessary." 

Darna  Singh  closed  a  door  that  led  from  the  front 
hall  to  the  room,  and,  coming  back  to  stand  just 
across  the  desk  from  Foley,  said:  "The  major  sahib 
and  the  captain  sahib  are  prisoners  of  Doctor  Boelke  j 
they  are  below  in  a  cell — they  will  be  killed." 

In  answer  to  a  question,  Darna  Singh  related  how 
the  two  men  had  been  captured  and  how  he,  not  ob- 
served, had  slipped  away,  and,  knowing  all  the  pas- 
sages, had  made  his  way  to  the  stone  steps  that  led 
from  the  tunnels  to  Doctor  Boelke's  bungalow. 

Foley  in  his  cold,  unimpassioned  voice  asked: 
"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?" 

'Save  them." 

The  captain's  eyes  narrowed.  "They  are  not 
friends  of  mine;  they  searched  me  to-day,  and  if  I 
play  this  silly  game  I  chuck  in  the  sea  two  thousand 
quid.  It's  a  damn  tall  order." 

Darna  Singh's  voice  throbbed  with  passionate  feel- 
ing: "I  am  a  rajput,  sahib,  and  we  look  upon  the 
sahibs  as  white  rajputs.  We  may  hate  our  con- 
querors, but  we  do  not  despise  them  as  cowards.  I 
never  knew  a  sahib  to  leave  a  sahib  to  die ;  I  never 


303 

knew  a  rajput  to  leave  a  brother  rajput  to  die." 

Foley  puffed  at  his  cigar,  and  behind  his  set  face 
went  on  the  conflict  the  rajput' s  appeal  to  his  man- 
hood had  stirred. 

Darna  Singh  spoke  again:  "The  sahib  will  not  live 
to  be  branded  a  coward,  for  his  eyes  show  he  has 
courage.  And  we  must  hurry  or  it  will  be  too  late, 
for  these  two  sahibs  have  risked  their  lives  to  save 
the  British  raj  against  Prince  Ananda's,  who  is  a 
traitor  to  the  sahib's  king;  he  is  a  traitor  to  his  wife, 
the  princess,  for  to-morrow  he  will  force  into  the  pal- 
ace the  white  mem-sahib  who  is  here  with  Doctor 
Boelke." 

"By  gad!"  At  last  the  cold  gambler  blood  had 
warmed.  His  daughter  Marie,  eh?  That  was  dif- 
ferent! And  to  funk  it — let  two  Englishmen  die! 
One  an  Irishman,  even!  No  doubt  it  was  true,  he 
reasoned,  for  that  was  why  Darna  Singh  was  in  re- 
volt against  the  prince. 

"What  chance  have  we  got?"  Foley  asked. 

"There  will  be  a  guard  at  the  cage." 

"A  German?" 

"Yes,  sahib." 

"They  have  seen  me  with  Doctor  Boelke;  perhaps 
we  can  turn  the  trick.  But,"  and  his  hard  grey  eyes 
rested  on  Darna  Singh's  face,  "if,  when  we  go  down 
there  is  no  chance,  I  won't  play  the  giddy  goat;  I'll 
come  back."  He  handed  Boelke's  Mauser  to  the 
rajput,  saying:  "I  have  a  pistol  in  my  belt." 

Darna  Singh  slid  the  panel,  and  they  passed  from 
the  room  to  a  landing  and  down  a  dozen  stone  steps 


304  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

to  a  dim-lighted  passage.  Here  the  rajput  whis- 
pered: "I  can  take  the  sahib  by  a  dark  way  to  where 
he  can  see  the  cage  in  which  the  two  sahibs  will  be." 

"Hurry!"  Foley  answered,  for  he  was  thinking 
ruefully  of  his  money. 

The  underground  place  was  a  cross-hatch  of  many 
tunnels,  and  Darna  Singh  led  the  way  through  a  cir- 
cuitous maze  till  they  came  to  a  bright-lighted  cross 
passage,  and,  peeping  around  a  corner,  Foley  saw, 
fifty  feet  away,  a  solitary  German  leaning  against  the 
wall,  a  rifle  resting  at  his  side.  Raising  his  voice 
in  the  utterance  of  Hindustani  words,  Foley  rounded 
the  corner  at  a  steady  pace,  followed  by  Darna  Singh. 
The  sentry  grasped  his  rifle,  and,  standing  erect,  chal- 
lenged. In  German  Foley  answered:  "We  come 
from  the  Herr  Doctor." 

The  sentry,  having  seen  Foley  with  Doctor  Boelke, 
was  unsuspicious,  and,  grounding  his  rifle  tight 
against  his  hip,  he  clicked  his  heels  together  at  atten- 
tion. 

"The  two  prisoners  are  wanted  above  for  examina- 
tion," Foley  said.  "You  are  to  bind  their  arms  be- 
hind their  backs  and  accompany  us." 

"The  one  sahib  is  a  giant,"  the  other  answered, 
when  this  order,  percolating  slowly  through  his  heavy 
brain,  had  found  no  objection. 

"Give  me  the  gun;  I  will  cover  him  while  you 
bind  his  arms." 

The  sentry  unlocked  the  door,  took  a  rope  in  his 
hand,  and,  saying  to  Foley,  "Keep  close,  mein  Herr," 
entered  the  cell. 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  305 

Finnerty  and  Swinton  watched  this  performance, 
in  the  major's  mind  bitter  anger  at  the  thought  that 
an  Irishman  could  be  such  a  damnable  traitor. 

"Will  the  Herr  Kapitan  give  orders  in  English 
to  these  schweinehunds  that  if  they  do  not  obey  they 
will  be  killed?" 

Foley  complied.  What  he  said  was:  "Major,  put 
your  hands  behind  your  back;  then  when  this  chap 
comes  close  throttle  him  so  quick  he  can't  squeak." 

A  hot  wave  of  blood  surged  in  a  revulsion  of  feel- 
ing through  Finnerty's  heart,  and  he  crossed  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  half  turning  as  if  to  invite 
the  bondage.  When  the  German  stepped  close  a 
hand  shot  up,  and,  closing  on  his  windpipe,  pinned 
him  flat  against  the  wall,  lifted  to  his  toes,  his  tongue 
hanging  out  from  between  parted  lips. 

"Bind  and  gag  him,  Swinton,"  Foley  suggested. 

In  a  minute  the  sentry  was  trussed,  a  handkerchief 
wedged  in  his  mouth,  and  he  was  deposited  in  a  cor- 
ner. Outside,  Foley  turned  off  the  cell  light,  locked 
the  door,  and,  handing  the  guard's  gun  to  Swinton, 
led  the  way  back  to  the  dark  passage. 

On  the  landing  above  the  stone  steps,  Darna  Singh 
silently  moved  the  carved  Ganesha  and  peered 
through  the  hole.  Then  whispering,  "The  room  is 
empty,"  unlocked  and  slid  open  the  panel,  locking  it 
behind  them  as  they  entered  Boelke's  room. 

The  bungalow  was  silent.  There  was  no  sound 
of  servants  moving  about ;  no  doubt  they  were  over 
at  the  palace,  waiting  for  the  thing  that  was  in  the 
air. 


306  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

Out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart,  Foley  spoke  in  low 
tones:  "Gentlemen,  the  doctor  will  be  here  shortly 
with  money  for  me,  and  your  presence  might  irritate 
him." 

"I'll  never  forget  what  you've  done  for  us,  Foley," 
Finnerty  said. 

"Neither  will  I  if  you  do  me  out  of  two  thousand 
quid  by  blathering  here,"  Foley  drawled. 

Swinton  put  his  hand  on  Foley's  arm.  "Forgive 
me  for  what  I  said  on  the  trail,  and  I  give  you  my 
word  that  what  you've  done  for  us  will  be  brought 
to  the  sircar's  notice ;  but  we've  got  to  capture  Boelke. 
We've  got  to  nip  this  revolt;  you  know  there's  one 
on." 

"Look  here,  Herbert,"  Foley  drawled,  "I  don't 
mind  risking  my  life  to  help  out  a  couple  of  sahibs 
— a  fellow's  got  to  do  that — but  I'm  damned  if  I'm 
going  to  chuck  away  a  kit  bag  full  of  rupee  notes." 

"I've  got  nothing  to  do  with  the  money;  that's  a 
matter  you  must  settle  with  Boelke,"  Swinton  said 
in  dry  diplomacy;  "but  if  you  and  the  major  will 
hide  behind  that  heavy  curtain  and  capture  this  enemy 
to  the  British  raj,  I  can  promise  you  an  unmolested 
return  to  England.  There's  another  thing" — his 
words  were  hesitatingly  apologetic — "we  are  now 
your  heavy  debtors  and  can't  make  demands  on  you 
for  that  paper,  but  if  it  gets  into  Prince  Ananda's 
hands  it  will  make  his  revolt  possible.  He  will  show 
it  to  the  chiefs  who  meet  him  to-night." 

"And  with  that  I  have  nothing  to  do.  I'll  deliver 
the  paper  to  Boelke  and  take  my  money;  what  you 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  307 

do  to  the  Herr  Doctor  after  that  is  no  concern  of 
mine." 

With  a  smile,  Swinton  held  out  his  hand,  saying: 
"Darna  Singh  and  I  are  going  to  blow  up  the  maga- 
zine, but  I'll  just  say,  thank  you,  for  fear  I  get 
pipped." 


Chapter  XXII 

FOLEY  and  Major  Finnerty  took  up  their  posi- 
tions in  a  corner  behind  a  heavy  curtain,  Foley 
making  two   slits  in  it  with  a  pocketknife. 
They  were  clear  of  the  door  leading  below,  and  even 
if  Boelke  came  that  way  he  would  not  detect  their 
presence. 

In  five  minutes  Marie  entered  the  room,  and  stood 
looking  about  as  if  she  had  expected  to  see  some 
one.  She  wore  a  riding  habit,  and  through  the  cur- 
tain slit  Finnerty  could  see  that  her  face  was  drawn 
and  white,  her  eyes  heavy  in  utter  weariness. 

Almost  immediately  a  heavy  tread  sounded  in  the 
hall,  followed  by  the  thrust  of  Boelke's  ugly  form 
through  the  door.  He  glared  about  the  room,  and, 
crashing  into  his  chair,  asked  gruffly:  "Vhere  is  your 
f  adder?" 

"I  don't  know,"  the  girl  answered  wearily. 
"You  don't  know!    Veil,  vhere  is  der  paper?" 
"You  must  get  it  from  my  father." 
"I  don't  like  dot;  some  one  is  a  liar!" 
The  girl's  silence  at  this  brutality  but  increased 
Boelke's  ugliness.     "Your   fadder  don't  trust  me. 
Being  a  thief  himself,  und  a  traitor,  he  pays  me  der 
same  compliment — he  refuse  to  deliver  der  paper 
till  der  money  is  paid.     Here  is  der  rupees,  und  I 

308 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  309 

vant  der  paper."  His  heavy  knuckles  beat  upon  the 
table. 

"You  must  wait,  then,  till  he  comes." 

"He  toldt  me  you  had  der  paper  still — for  fear 
he  might  be  robbed,  I  suppose.  Vhere  is  it?" 

"It  is  hidden." 

"Get  it;  der  rajah  vaits." 

The  girl  sat  with  no  movement  of  response.  Fin- 
nerty  could  see  her  face  draw  into  a  cast  of  resolve. 
Both  he  and  Foley  felt  that  it  would  be  better  to 
wait  for  the  girl  to  leave  the  room  before  they  rushed 
upon  Boelke ;  there  might  be  shooting. 

The  doctor's  rage  increased.  "If  your  fadder  is 
traitor  to  me — if  der  paper  is  not  produced  in  five 
minutes,  I  vill  send  out  word  that  he  be  shot  on  sight, 
und  between  you  two  ve  vill  find  der  paper."  Boelke 
sat  back  in  his  chair  with  a  snorting  growl. 

"Listen  to  me,  Herr  Boelke,"  the  girl  said  in  a 
voice  clean  cutting  as  a  steel  tool  that  rips  iron.  "My 
father  is  acting  loyal  to  you,  though  he  is  a  traitor 
to  his  own  government.  He  stole  that  paper  because 
he  faced  what  he  called  dishonour  over  gambling 
debts,  and  I  was  blamed  for  taking  it.  I  was  the  one 
who  faced  dishonour,  and,  through  me,  Lord  Gilfain. 
I  escaped  and  made  my  way  to  India  under  false 
names,  not  to  help,  as  you  thought,  but  to  recover 
that  paper  and  give  it  back  to  the  government  or  de- 
stroy it." 

"Haf  you  destroyed  it?" 

"You  will  never  get  it,  Herr  Boelke.  I  have  to  tell 


310  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

you  this — that  you  may  know  my  father  did  not  act 
the  traitor  to  you." 

"Ha,  ha!  You  are  as  mad  as  your  f adder.  If 
der  paper  is  not  here  in  five  minutes  do  you  know 
vat  vill  happen  you?" 

"I  am  not  afraid;  I  took  all  these  risks  when  I 
came  here  to  clear  my  name." 

"Here  is  der  money — my  time  is  short." 

Twice  Foley  had  laid  a  hand  on  Finnerty's  arm 
in  restraint. 

"Never!     I  swear  it.     I  am  not  afraid." 

"No;  like  your  f  adder  you  haf  not  fear  or  sense. 
But  vait.  You  do  not  fear  for  your  own  life — I  know 
dot — but  vill  you  trade  dot  paper  for  der  life  of 
der  man  you  love — Major  Finnerty  ?"  The  listeners 
heard  a  gasp.  "I  mean  dot.  He  und  der  udder  fool, 
Svinton,  is  below  in  a  cell — caught  dere  as  spies — 
und  to-morrow  dey  vill  be  shot  as  spies.  Dey  took 
care  dot  nobody  see  dem  go  in,  und  I  vill  take  care 
dot  nobody  see  dem  come  out." 

A  ghastly  silence  followed,  only  broken  by  the 
sound  of  the  girl's  breathing. 

Boelke  waited  to  let  this  filter  through  her  brain 
to  her  heart. 

Then  she  said  in  a  voice  that  carried  no  convincing 
force :  "You  are  lying  to  frighten  me." 

"I  vill  prove  it  to  yourself.  You  haf  on  der  riding 
habit,  und  now  I  know  you  haf  been  riding  to  deliver 
dot  paper  to  der  major;  but  you  did  not  meet  him 
because  he  is  a  prisoner  below." 

Again  there  was  the  hush  of  a  debate  in  the  girl's 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  311 

mind;  then  she  said:  "If  you  will  bring  Major  Fin- 
nerty  and  Captain  Swinton  from  below,  through  that 
door,  and  let  them  go  as  free  men,  and  will  swear 
to  not  pursue  them,  I  will  give — get  the  paper, 
and " 

"Ach,  Gottf  You  haf  der  paper !  You  put  your 
hand  to  your  breast!" 

The  girl  cried  out,  startled,  frightened,  as  Boelke's 
gorilla  form  flung  his  chair  back.  He  saw  the  rush 
of  Finnerty  and  threw  back  the  drawer  of  his  desk; 
it  was  empty — Foley  had  taken  the  Mauser. 

"If  you  open  your  mouth,  you're  a  dead  man!" 
Finnerty  declared;  then  adding,  for  relief:  "You 
hound!" 

The  girl,  who  had  backed  to  the  wall,  dropped  to 
a  chair,  burying  her  face  in  an  arm  on  the  desk,  swept 
by  a  flood  of  confusion  and  relief. 

Foley  transferred  the  packages  of  rupee  notes  to 
his  pockets,  saying:  "I've  delivered  the  paper  in  Dar- 
pore,  and  am  taking  my  fee,"  while  Boelke  sat  blink- 
ing into  a  pistol  that  stared  at  him  four  feet  away. 

Finnerty  said:  "We're  going  to  gag  and  bind  you, 
so  make  no  outcry." 

When  this  little  matter  was  attended  to,  the  doctor 
was  dumped  into  a  big  closet  and  the  door  locked. 

"I'll  have  a  look  at  the  outside,  major,"  Foley 
said.  "Fancy  I  heard  some  one  prowling." 

When  the  curtain  slipped  back  to  place,  blotting 
out  Foley,  Finnerty  gave  an  inward  gasp;  he  was 
left  alone  with  the  girl  whom  he  had  heard  offer  to 
barter  her  more  than  life — her  reputation — for  his 


312  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

life.  A  dew  of  perspiration  stood  out  on  his  fore- 
head; he  trembled;  the  shyness  that  had  been  a  curse 
to  him  from  his  boyhood  made  him  a  veritable  cow- 
ard. He  was  alone  with  the  girl  in  an  atmosphere 
of  love — the  most  dreaded  word  in  the  whole  Eng- 
lish lexicon. 

Marie  held  the  paper  in  her  hand,  looking  upon  it 
as  though  she  were  crystal  gazing,  using  it  as  a  mag- 
net to  focus  her  own  multitudinous  emotions.  Be- 
fore her  stood  a  man  that  was  like  a  Greek  god — 
the  man  who  had  twice  saved  her  life;  though  the 
saving  of  her  life,  while  it  would  have  wakened  feel- 
ings of  deep  gratitude,  could  not  have  filled  her  soul 
with  the  passionate  yearning  that  was  there — the 
surging  soul  warmth  that  submerges  everything. 

The  man  was  like  a  child.  Words  utterly  failed 
to  shape  themselves  into  a  fitting  coherence  for  utter- 
ance. He  stepped  to  the  wall  and  swung  the  little 
Ganesha  panel,  peering  vacantly  into  the  dark  pas- 
sage. He  came  back  and  gazed  out  into  the  hall. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  something "  The  girl's 

voice  startled  him  as  though  he  had  been  struck;  his 
nerves  were  frightful.  "I  want  to  tell  you,"  she  said 
again,  a  wan  smile  striving  to  master  her  trembling 
lips,  "why  I  didn't  give  up  this  paper  on  the  trail 
to-day." 

"I  understand,"  he  interrupted;  "it  would  not  have 
cleared  you." 

uNo;  Captain  Swinton  would  have  thought  that  I 
had  given  it  up  under  compulsion.  But  if  I  had  lost 
it,  all  I  have  gone  through  would  have  been  for  noth- 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  313- 

ing.  That's  what  frightened  me  so  when  Doctor 
Boelke  discovered  I  had  it.  I  did  wrong  in  keeping 
it;  I  was  selfish." 

The  girl's  tensed  nerves  were  being  slacked  by  her 
words;  expression  was  easing  the  tightened  coils  as 
the  striking  of  a  clock  unwinds  the  spring;  the  relief 
was  loosening  tears ;  they  flooded  the  great  dark  eyes, 
and  one  had  fallen  on  the  paper,  for  an  instant  like 
a  pearl  before  it  was  absorbed. 

This  trivial  thing  was  a  power  that  swept  away 
the  bondage  of  shyness  that  held  the  giant.  He  put 
his  hand  on  the  girl's  shoulder;  his  voice  was  trem- 
bling. "Marie,"  he  said,  "I  must  speak — something. 
Don't  mind,  colleen,  if  you  can't  understand  what  I 
say,  for  I  feel  just  like  a  boy  at  home  in  Ireland. 
I'm  just  mad  with  love  for  you;  I  can't  live  without 
you.  All  my  life  I've  been  alone.  I  love  beautiful 
things — birds  and  trees  and  flowers  and  animals—- 
and I've  starved  here,  where  all  is  treachery  and 
work — nothing  but  just  work." 

It  was  a  torrent,  words  trembling  from  the  lips  of 
a  man  whose  soul  was  on  fire,  and  the  blue  eyes  had 
turned  deep  like  rich  sapphires. 

The  girl  rose  from  her  chair  and  stood  against 
the  wall,  holding  up  her  hand  as  if  she  would  repel 
him,  crying:  "You  mustn't  say  that;  you  must  not! 
Oh,  my  God !  Why  didn't  you  let  me  die — why  did 
you  save  my  life,  that  I  might  now  know  the  bitter- 
ness of  living!" 

Finnerty  recoiled.  His  hand  caught  the  corner 
of  the  desk;  his  voice  was  husky,  full  of  despair: 


"You  don't — don't — I'm  too  late?  Is  it  Lord  Vic- 
tor that " 

"There  is  no  one !"  The  girl's  voice  was  almost 
fierce. 

"What  is  it,  then?    Am  I  not  worthy " 

"It  is  I  who  am  not  worthy.  You  not  worthy? 
And  you  heard,  standing  behind  the  curtain,  that  I 
bargained  my  all  for  your  life." 

"Yes,  I  heard  that.  Then  how  are  you  not  worthy 
of  the  love  of  a  man  if  he  were  a  hundred  times 
better  than  I  am?" 

"You  could  not  marry  me.  My  father  was  a 
traitor,  a  gambler — we  are  the  same  blood." 

Finnerty  took  a  step  forward  and  grasped  the  girl's 
wrist.  The  touch  steadied  him.  "Hush,  colleen; 
don't  say  that.  Your  father  was  just  a  brave,  gen- 
erous Irishman  when  I  knew  him  before  the  gambling 
got  into  his  blood.  Fear  he  did  not  know.  He 
didn't  know  how  to  do  a  mean  act;  he'd  give  away 
his  last  penny — the  gambling  got  into  his  blood. 
Wasn't  that  what  got  him  into  this?  It  was  India 
that  scorched  and  seared  his  soul — the  life  here. 
The  others  had  money,  and  here  they  lavish  it,  throw 
it  about,  gamble.  He  tried  to  keep  his  end  up,  for 
he  was  game.  He  was  unlucky — it  was  a  second 
name  for  him  in  the  service — 'Unlucky'  Foley.  I  tell 
you  it  got  into  his  blood,  the  wild  Irish  blood  that 
boils  so  easily — that  is  not  cold  and  sluggish  from 
dilution  from  the  essence  of  self." 

It  was  curious  the  metamorphosis  of  love,  the 
glamour  of  it  that  roused  the  imaginative  sympathy 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  315 

of  Finnerty,  till,  for  the  girl's  sake,  all  her  geese 
were  swans.  And  yet  there  was  truth  in  what  he 
said;  only  a  Celt  could  have  understood  Foley  as 
Finnerty  did. 

Finnerty's  hand  had  taken  the  other  wrist.  He 
drew  the  girl's  hands  up  and  placed  them  either  side 
of  his  neck,  and  looked  into  her  eyes.  "Colleen,  I 
love  you.  Nothing  in  the  world  is  going  to  take 
you  from  me — nothing.  I'm  going  to  seal  that  with 
a  kiss,  and  neither  man  nor  devil  is  going  to  part  us 
after  that." 

As  his  arms  went  around  the  girl  a  tremour  shook 
the  earth,  the  bungalow  rocked  drunkenly,  they  heard 
the  crashing  of  rocks  and  trees  somewhere  on  the 
plateau. 


Chapter  XXIII 

IT  had  been  easy  for  Darna  Singh  to  smuggle 
Swinton  through  the  tiger  garden  gate,  for  the 
guard  were  tribesmen  of  his  own — rajputs  who 
really  hated  Ananda. 

And  now  the  two  sat  in  a  room  of  the  palace,  at 
Swinton's  elbow  a  switch  that,  at  a  shift,  would  send 
a  current  of  eruptive  force  into  the  magazine. 
Through  a  closed  lattice  they  looked  out  upon  the 
terrace  thronged  with  natives — Mussulmans,  Hin- 
dus, Buddhists ;  and,  gazing,  Swinton  thought  that  it 
was  like  bringing  together  different  explosives — a 
spark  would  perhaps  fan  a  sudden  mental  conflagra- 
tion among  these  fanatics.  Silence  reigned — a  hush 
hung  over  the  many-coloured  throng  as  if  something 
of  this  held  them  on  guard. 

Darna  Singh  was  explaining  in  a  whisper: 
"Ananda  has  called  these  chiefs  to  sign  a  blood 
pact  against  the  sircar.  The  two  men  of  the  big 
beards  are  from  Khyber  way — Pathans  whose  trade 
is  war;  one  is  Ghazi  Khan  and  the  other  is  Dhera 
Ishmael.  They  will  not  sign  the  blood  pact  unless 
Ananda  shows  them  the  paper  wherein  the  sircar  is 
to  force  their  young  men  to  war.  The  maharajah 
will  not  be  here,  but  whether  he  is  true  to  the  sircar 
no  man  knows,  and  sometimes,  sahib,  he  does  not 
know  himself,  because  of  the  brandy." 

316 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  317 

They  could  see  Burra  Moti  upon  her  bended  legs 
on  the  marble-slabbed  terrace,  a  rich  cloth,  sparkling 
with  jewels,  draping  her  head  and  neck  and  body. 
Huge  gold  rings  had  been  driven  upon  her  ivory 
tusks. 

Darna  Singh  whispered: 

"Look,  sahib,  at  the  two  men  that  stand  beside 
the  elephant's  neck;  they  are  my  blood  brothers,  and 
when  we  entered  at  the  teakwood  gate  I  told  them 
of  the  sapphire  bell.  They  have  their  mission." 

Beyond,  the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin,  rich  in  its 
gorgeous  drape  of  shadow  and  moon  gold,  lay  se- 
rene, placid,  undisturbed  by  the  puny  man  passion 
that  throbbed  like  a  ticking  watch  above  its  rim. 

The  droning  hum  of  voices,  like  the  buzz  of  bees, 
died  to  silence,  and  foreheads  were  bowed  to  the 
marble  floor  as  Prince  Ananda,  clothed  in  a  coarse 
yellow  robe,  came  forth  and  strode  like  a  Roman 
senator  to  table  at  which  sat  with  the  two  Pathans  a 
dozen  petty  rajahs,  nawabs,  and  Mussulman  chiefs. 

"They  are  waiting  to  have  the  paper  translated 
to  them  by  a  moonshi  and  to  see  the  sircar's  seal  upon 
it,  for  they  all  know  that  mark,"  Darna  Singh  said. 

"What  will  happen  if  the  paper  does  not  come?" 
Swinton  asked. 

"They  will  not  sign  the  blood  bond;  they  will 
think  that  Rajah  Ananda  has  told  them  lies.  Also 
the  two  men  who  are  my  brothers  will  place  another 
lie  in  the  month  of  Ananda,  if  it  is  Kismet,  and  at 
that  time  the  sahib  will  blow  up  the  mine." 

From  below  the  voice  of  Ananda  came  floating  up 


318  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

to  their  ears  as  he  talked  to  the  chiefs  in  impassioned 
words  of  hatred  to  the  British  raj.  He  told  them 
of  the  machine  guns  and  ammunition  he  had  below ; 
that  the  great  German  nation  would  send  an  army, 
for  even  now  they  had  sent  men  to  train  the  soldiers 
of  the  revolt. 

To  Swinton  it  was  simply  the  mad  exhortation  of 
a  mind  crazed  by  ambition,  but  he  knew  that  scores 
of  revolts  against  the  British  had  originated  in  just 
this  way;  the  untutored  natives,  taught  hatred  of  the 
British  from  their  birth,  would  believe  every  word. 

The  voice  of  Ghazi  Khan,  rough  as  the  bellow  of 
a  bull  as  it  came  through  an  opening  in  his  heavy, 
matted  beard,  was  heard  asking: 

"Where  is  the  paper,  rajah,  wherein  is  written 
that  the  sircar  commands  our  sons  to  cross  the  black 
water  to  fight  against  the  caliph  and  to  destroy  Mecca 
— even  to  destroy  the  faith  of  Mohammed,  as  thou 
hast  said?" 

"We  also,  Rajah  Darpore,"  the  Nawab  of  Atta- 
bad  said,  "would  see  first  the  sealed  order  of  the 
sircar,  that  we,  too,  are  forced  to  cross  the  black 
water  to  the  destruction  of  our  caste — to  fight  battles 
that  are  not  the  battle  of  India.  Thou  hast  said,  ra- 
jah, that  it  is  so  commanded  in  a  state  paper  that 
was  to  have  been  put  in  the  Lord  Sahib's  hands  as 
he  sat  in  council  in  Calcutta,  and  though  no  doubt 
it  is  true  we  would  see  it,  for  war  is  not  to  be  taken 
in  words  that  are  spoken." 

Ananda  explained  that  the  paper  would  be  brought 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  319 

soon  by  his  German  officer,  and  he  would  show  it  to 
them  before  they  signed  the  pact. 

Then  Ananda,  lowering  his  voice  to  tragic  inten- 
sity, said:  "It  is  written  that  if  the  three  sacred 
sapphires  come  into  the  hand  of  a  man  it  is  because 
the  gods  have  bestowed  upon  him  wisdom  and  good- 
ness and  power ;  that  he  is  to  lead.  It  is  also  written 
that  if,  having  the  three  sapphires,  he  stand  beside 
the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  at  midnight  in  the  full 
bloom  of  the  mhowa  tree  King  Jogendra  will  ap- 
pear in  his  golden  boat  if  he  be  selected  to  lead.  I 
will  take  the  ordeal  to-night,  for  the  mhowa  is  in 
bloom  and  the  three  sapphires  have  been  sent." 

Swinton  saw  Ananda  throw  open  his  yellow  robe, 
disclosing  two  sapphires,  and  heard  him  say:  "The 
third  is  here  on  the  neck  of  the  sacred  elephant  in 
a  bell." 

At  that  instant  the  booming  note  of  a  gong  strik- 
ing the  midnight  hour  came  from  somewhere  in  the 
palace. 

A  dead  silence  settled  over  the  people  on  the  ter- 
race, and  they  turned  their  eyes  to  the  waters  of 
the  Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin. 

Twelve  times  the  gong  throbbed  as  it  quivered 
from  a  blow,  and  as  the  last  whimpering  note  died 
away  in  a  forest  echo  a  circling  ripple  spread  from 
the  shadow  of  a  pipal,  and  now  the  rippling  waves 
came  fast,  darting  here  and  there  like  serpents  of 
gold  or  silver  in  the  moonlight. 

Men  gasped  in  awe ;  some  touched  their  foreheads 
prone  to  the  marble  floor  as  a  boat  of  gold,  its  prow 


320  THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES 

a  serpent's  head  with  gleaming  ruby  eyes,  came  up 
out  of  the  water  and  floated  upon  the  surface. 

King  Jogendra  clothed  in  a  rich  garment,  his  tur- 
ban gleaming  red  and  blue  and  white  and  gold  where 
the  moon  flashed  upon  jewels,  rose  from  a  bier  and 
lifted  a  hand  as  if  to  invoke  the  favour  of  the  gods 
upon  the  prince  who  had  called  him  from  his  long 
sleep. 

Even  Swinton,  knowing  that  it  was  but  a  trick  of 
the  German  engineers,  shivered  as  if  he  caught  a 
fragment  of  the  spell  that  almost  stilled  the  beating 
of  hearts  below. 

And  then  from  the  sal  forest  came  floating  to  this 
stillness  of  death  the  soft,  sweet  "Tinkle,  tinkle, 
tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle  1"  of  the  sapphire  bell. 

Burra  Moti  threw  up  her  trunk,  uttering  a  cry 
that  was  like  the  sob  of  a  frightened  child,  and 
cocked  her  huge  ears.  As  the  bell  called  again,  "Tin- 
kle, tinkle,  tinkle !"  she  thrust  her  trunk  beneath  her 
neck  cloth ;  but  her  fingers  found  no  bell ;  it  had  been 
stolen. 

With  a  scream  of  rage  she  surged  to  her  feet,  and, 
trampling  men,  throwing  them  to  one  side  like  bags 
of  chaff  with  her  ivory  spears,  she  crashed  through 
the  table  and  fled. 

"Now,  sahib!"  Darna  Singh  cried. 

In  answer  to  Swinton's  pull  of  the  lever  the  pla- 
teau rose  up,  the  palace  quivered,  the  waters  of  the 
Lake  of  the  Golden  Coin  swept  across  the  terrace 
over  a  flattened,  yellow-robed  figure  that  had  been 


THE  THREE  SAPPHIRES  321 

Prince  Ananda,  and  then  was  sucked  back  to  disap- 
pear through  a  yawning  crevice. 

"Come,  sahib;  there  will  be  no  revolt,  for  Ananda 
is  dead,"  Darna  Singh  said  softly. 

Sometimes  when  the  mhowa  tree  is  in  full  bloom 
the  soft  tinkle  of  the  sapphire  bell  is  heard  up  in  the 
sal-covered  hills;  then  the  natives  whisper: 

"The  spirit  of  Rajah  Ananda  rides  forth  on  the 
Brown  Elephant." 


THE  END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILI1 


A     000126452     2 


